The Call of the Siren
by Sweet Nightingale
Summary: A beautiful American witch has just transferred to Hogwarts. Her feelings for Harry, and his for her, have grown very strong, but can their relationship survive once Harry learns the truth about her past and about what she is?
1. Chapter 1

**The Call of the Siren**

**Prologue**

Carrietta Stafford walked through the front door of her house and headed for the kitchen, rubbing her back as waves of fatigue and exhaustion washed over her. It was a blistering hot day in August, but she'd spent the last couple hours away from the heat inside a studio singing. She'd completed her normal two hour Saturday afternoon voce lesson, and she felt drained. The lesson had been a grueling one and hadn't gone particularly well, much to Carrie's chagrin. Lately, things just didn't seem to be going her way.

"Is that you, dear?" called her mother's cheerful voice from the dining room.

"Yeah, Mom, it's me. I'm just going to the kitchen for some cold water. It's stifling out there."

Carrie was a beautiful sixteen year old girl with waist length wavy golden blond hair that shone and shimmered in the light. Her eyes were the color of a brilliant blue sky, and they twinkled and sparkled like the brightest of stars. Carrie's hair and eye color complimented her milky complexion beautifully. Her perfectly straight white teeth flashed as Carrie's friendly smile was bestowed on others freely. Like a butterfly, Carrie was very small and dainty, being only 5 feet tall and very slender and petite. She walked with a confident, and light, but bouncy, step. Carrie looked like the typical, normal All-American girl, but there was something special about her. Carrie Stafford and her family were witches and wizards!

Carrie sat down at the kitchen table and noticed that her grandmother was there, nursing a cup of tea. "Did you have a good lesson, honey?" Carrie's grandmother asked. The older woman was in her early sixties, but she looked years younger. The only sign of significant aging was her snow white hair that her grandmother, Bea Murphy, kept tied neatly in a bun at the nape of her neck. Bea had fine wrinkles around her blue eyes, but her light complexion was that of a younger woman. Like her granddaughter, Bea possessed a small, compact frame.

"It was OK, Grandma. I just had a bit of an off day," Carrie explained as she flopped tiredly into a chair.

"Have some tea, dear, and tell me all about it." Carrie's grandmother was always all ears, especially when it came to Carrie's voice lessons.

"There's not much to tell, Grandma. I just wasn't on my mark, and Randolph knew it. He's taught me for so long that he knows instantly when I'm not with it," Carrie said miserably.

"You're restless, aren't you, honey?" asked her grandmother astutely.

Her grandmother's remark hit home, and Carrie knew it. Tears filled Carries blue eyes and she ducked her head to obscure her face with her hair. Carrie began to cry helplessly, hating herself for it. She had a wonderful family and a wonderful life. Why couldn't she just be happy with what she had? Carrie laid her head on the table as wracking sobs overtook her tiny frame.

Bea instantly got up from her chair and went to her granddaughter's side, taking the sobbing girl tenderly into her arms. "Shhh, darling. Ah, don't cry, dear. All will be well," she crooned as Carrie cried in her arms. Bea rocked her only grandchild as the girl cried out her anguish and misery.

Carrie cried for a few more minutes before she was finally able to speak. She didn't want to leave the comfort of her grandmother's arms just yet, so she just sat there and allowed herself to be held. "I'm sorry, Grandma. I seem to cry so easily these days. I don't know what came over me. Ever since that time—"

"It's alright, honey. I understand. You went through a terrible ordeal last year, and now with this restlessness you're feeing—well, I'd cry too," said her grandmother.

"I feel so guilty," said Carrie. "After what he—" she took a shuddering breath before continuing. "After what he did to me, I should be happy to just stay here at home forever."

"Nobody can be happy just saying home forever, dear," said Bea. "You're a young girl, full of dreams with a desire to live and find excitement. Nobody can fault you for that, honey."

"If anyone would understand, I knew you would, Grandma. I love you very much," said Carrie as she squeezed her grandmother close.

Bea stroked the girl's long, shiny hair and said quietly as she held her, "I love you too, honey, with all my heart. We're two of a kind, you and I."

Carrie had heard other people speak this statement, but it was never truer in Bea and Carrie's case. Not only were the two women witches, but they shared something else in common; both Bea and Carrie were Sirens.

"I know, Grandma. This burden, this 'thing' we carry with us, it sometimes frightens me," said Carrie.

"Yes, darling, I know. It is a unique gift, even in our world. And honey, that is how you must look at it or it will drive you mad. Like all gifts, it can be used for good as well as evil. I know your heart, dear. Your gift has brought help and healing to those in need, and that's very commendable."

"But Grandma, you've coped with it. How did you manage to not let it eat you alive? I mean, just think of the power behind this ability we have. It's scary," said Carrie, frowning in concern.

"I coped by doing exactly what you are doing now. I learned to control the ability and use it for the benefit of others. You see, honey, we are what we are, and we must make the best of it. Carrie, listen to me. You are a loving, kind, and sweet young woman with a unique gift. That gift will help both you and others along the way as you live your life. Don't let it frighten you into silence," her Grandmother said as she looked squarely into Carrie's eyes. "If you shut yourself off from your power, you will be miserable, dear. Always use it carefully and wisely, and never let your fear silence you."

"But as you know, I can be dangerous in the wrong hands," Carrie looked down at her clasped hands. "Look at what happened last year."

"That is why precautions must be taken, honey. You were very courageous in the face of that awful situation, but you didn't give in to the evil demands. You stood your ground and stood up for your beliefs and values although your life was in danger. That's something to be proud of." Carrie's grandmother took her by the shoulders and squeezed them with her small hands.

"I don't feel proud Grandma," Carrie continued. "I feel stupid for allowing myself to get kidnapped. You always told me to be careful—"

Bea fixed Carrie with a stern expression. "You listen to me, and you listen well. It was not your fault that you were taken from us. Things happen that is beyond our control, and this was one of them. None of us could have predicted the danger. You were the victim in all this. We all were. Don't ever blame yourself for this."

"I tried to fight him, Grandma. I really did. He was just too powerful—"Carrie's eyes filled with tears again, and she began to shake.

Bea took Carrie in her arms again and held her frightened granddaughter close. Even after all this time, the ordeal was fresh in all of their minds, especially Carrie's.

"I know you tried to fight, honey. Most likely, you fought like a tiger to get away. It was a horrible, horrible time for all of us, especially you." Bea began to sing softly to her granddaughter to get her calmed down. It hurt her heart to see Carrie still so frightened. Had she been able to, Bea would have taken her place in a heartbeat.

Last summer, Carrie had been abducted by a Death Eater, one of Voldemort's followers, who wanted to use Carrie's Siren Song for his evil doings. The Death Eater, who called himself "The Destroyer" was actually a man named Rudy Butts, who was one of Voldemort's main supporters. Butts, in the hope that he could get Carrie in his evil clutches, wanted to be the Dark Lord's second-in-command. By abducting Carrie and getting her to follow his orders, Buts expected to be handsomely rewarded by his master. However, the plan backfired when controlling Carrie and using her for his evil purposes didn't go according to his plan.

Butts had held Carrie in deplorable conditions and exposed her to the Cruciatus Curse for the ten days he held her captive when she refused to meet his demands. Carrie wanted no part of using her Siren Song for killing and destruction, and she was quite vocal about telling him this during her captivity. Butts became increasingly angrier as the days passed, and his torture of Carrie increased along with his wrath. The prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus Curse took its toll on Carrie's body, causing her internal injuries in her weakened state. She was rescued by her family after ten days of hell, but by that time, Carrie was in a coma and not expected to live. Fortunately, she beat the odds and recovered from her physical injuries, but the ordeal left Carrie with emotional scars that she struggles with on a daily basis.

Carrie was finally able to relax, and her trembling subsided. Her grandmother could always calm her down and make things better, and Carrie was grateful for this woman's loving influence in her life. She and her Grandmother had always been close, especially because of the "gift" they both possessed.

"Thanks, Grandma. I feel better now. You must think I'm a real woos," Carrie chuckled softly.

"No, I don't, honey. It's normal to be frightened after going through such an experience. Now, I'll make you a cup of tea, and I want you to just sit and relax while we chat, alright?" Bea smiled reassuringly as she gave her granddaughter a final squeeze before busying herself with the teapot.

Carrie was lost in thought while Bea prepared a cup of tea for her. Before she knew it, she was singing softly. It was an English folk song about unrequited love and tragedy, and it was one Bea had taught her years ago. Bea, recognizing the song, joined in with a beautiful harmony, complimenting Carrie's sweet soprano voice. The kitchen filled with the awe inspiring sounds of grandmother and granddaughter singing together, their voices blending with one another in rivers of harmony and emotion. As the song ended, the two women grinned at each other, feeling the bond of music that has tied them together since Carrie's talent was discovered.

"I thought I heard my two favorite singers wailing in here," boomed a deep male voice as the kitchen door opened. Gerald Stafford, Carrie's father, arrived home from work and was treated to the sound of Carrie's and Bea's singing as he entered the living room.

"Hi, Daddy," giggled Carrie as she got up from her chair to give her father a hug.

"Hello, Gerald, dear," said Bea, smiling at her son-in-law. "Would you like some tea?"

"I think a butterbeer would do nicely, Mother," said Carrie's father. Carrie immediately retrieved one and handed it to her father. "Thank you, Angel." Carrie's father smiled lovingly at his daughter.

Gerald Stafford was a burly man in his early 40's. Looking at him, one would never guess that Carrie was actually his daughter. Gerald was a tall man of over six feet with sleek wavy black hair and kind, twinkling brown eyes. He wore a beard and mustache, which he kept neatly trimmed. Gerald was very muscular with the build of an athlete, being quite broad through the chest and shoulders. He served as the Transfiguration Professor at the Springfield Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the same school that Carrie attended in Springfield, Illinois. On first meeting Gerald, many people found him intimidating with his muscular frame and big, booming voice, but in actuality, Gerald Stafford was a gentle, compassionate man who cares for his family, friends, and students tremendously.

"How was work today, Daddy? I can't believe the Headmaster made all of you come in for that meeting," said Carrie. "School doesn't even start for two more weeks."

"It was alright," said Gerald with a weary sigh. "Some new staff has been hired, so they had to be brought up to speed."

As they talked about his meeting, Lisa Stafford quietly entered the room. It was quite obvious that Carrie took after her mother's side of the family. Lisa shared the same small stature as her mother and daughter, and like Carrie's hair, Lisa's long, blond hair shimmered in the light as she moved. It was long and flowing like Carrie's, but Lisa's hair fell to the middle of her back while Carrie's reached her waist. Lisa also possessed the same brilliant blue eyes as Bea and Carrie, and like Bea, Lisa didn't look her age. Although Lisa was in her early forties, she could pass as Carrie's older sister rather than her mother.

"Hello, darling," Lisa's soft voice called as she walked over to her husband and kissed him. "I'll get started on dinner straight away."

"Is there anything I can do to help, Mom?" asked Carrie as she finished her tea.

"Would you mind making the salad, dear? I'm late getting started as it is. I hate working double shifts at the hospital," sighed Lisa, who worked as a Main Heeler at St. Mungo's of Springfield, a Wizarding hospital that treated magical maladies of every kind.

Carrie retrieved the lettuce and other makings for their salad and began washing and chopping the vegetables. Since she was not of age yet, she was compelled to do it without magic, but she didn't care. Carrie loved to cook, even without magic. Their homey, cozy kitchen was an atmosphere of camaraderie as grandmother, mother, and daughter worked together. The kitchen was done in soft yellows, and everything was always put away in its proper place. Bea had been making bread, and the wonderful smells reached Carrie's nostrils. She breathed in the fresh scent of the bread and began to sing as she chopped. As the women worked, Gerald exited the kitchen, heading back to the living room to chat with Carrie's Grandfather, Timothy.

Timothy Murphy was a kindly man, who was approximately Bea's age. He was tall and thin, with gentle blue eyes and a kind smile. His hair, beard and mustache were snow white, with his beard reaching to the middle of his chest. Timothy was soft spoken with a gentle voice that possessed just the faintest hint of an Irish accent that Carrie loved to listen to.

When dinner preparations were complete, Lisa called out to the two men that dinner was served. As they ate, the adults talked happily amongst themselves while Carrie listened politely. The food was delicious as always, but Carrie's appetite wasn't what it normally was. She ate slowly and distractedly, not noticing the looks of concern her parents and grandparents were giving her.

"What is it, honey? Aren't you feeling well?" asked her Grandfather, his Irish accent becoming thick with worry and concern.

"I'm fine, Grandpa. It was just one of those days," said Carrie, trying to reassure him.

"I think we should tell her," said Lisa, wiping her mouth daintily with her napkin.

"Tell me what?" asked Carrie. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, Angel," her father smiled a bit sadly at her. "We have a surprise for you, but we're just not sure how you'll react to it."

"What is it?" asked Carrie with a touch of apprehension. "Don't keep me in suspense."

"Well," Lisa began. "Your father and I, along with your grandparents, thought that you might study abroad this year."

Carrie's eyes grew round with astonishment as she gaped at her mother. She was speechless for a moment, which was totally unlike her. "Abroad? You mean, like as in another country?" she asked once she recovered her voice.

"Yes, Angel," chimed in her father. "The school is called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It's in England. We just received your letter of acceptance today. It's a wonderful school with a top-notch educational program. The Headmaster's name is Albus Dumbledore, and he's approved an exchange program so students of other nationalities can attend." Gerald spoke rather quickly, hoping to get it over with soon. He hated keeping something this important from Carrie for so long, and he dreaded a bad reaction from her.

"I've heard of Hogwarts," said Carrie. She couldn't believe what she was hearing! This had totally come out of nowhere.

"May I ask what brought this on?" Carrie asked the question very softly and slowly. "We've never talked about my studying anywhere besides here in Springfield. I'm—uh—shocked, to say the very least."

"We're so sorry to just spring this on you, honey," said her mother as she looked at Carrie with a worried frown. "You see, we've noticed how you've been toward the end of last term and over the summer. Your father and I could sense that you needed something more in your life, perhaps a change of scenery."

"Don't be angry at us, dear," said Bea. "We just wanted to see what would happen before we told you."

"Was it something I said? I mean, I don't ever want you guys to feel like I've been ungrateful or anything. You all have been great. It's just—" Carrie trailed off lamely and looked down at her half-filled plate.

"No, love, it isn't like that," said her Grandfather, reaching over to take Carrie's hand. His Irish accent was thick as he spoke, his blue eyes pools of concern as they beseeched Carrie to understand. "It has nothing to do with anything you said or did, darling."

"The truth is, we'd miss you terribly, dear. But, we all think this would be a good move for you, both educationally and emotionally. We just want what's best for you," replied Bea. "Are you angry with us?"

Carrie sighed as she looked at the four people she loved most in the entire world. How could she blame them for wanting her to find happiness? "No, I'm not angry, you guys. The truth is, the crazy thought about my studying abroad did enter my mind, but I just dismissed it as a crazy notion. I never really considered it as a possibility. You say I've been accepted?"

Lisa nodded and smiled. Carrie was actually taking it well. However, she looked a bit shell shocked. "Carrie, honey, are you alright?" Lisa asked with concern.

"I—I think so. It's just I have to get my mind wrapped around it. This is so sudden. I mean, part of me wants to go. I've been feeling so restless lately and wondering how to get it out of my system. It's just—Hogwarts! Wow!" Carrie shook her head in bewilderment. "But, I'm scared too. I've not spent an extended period of time away from home before. England is so far away."

"We know, Angel. It's going to be an adjustment for all of us, but we want what's best for you. Attending Hogwarts will be an experience that will stay with you the rest of your life," said her father with absolute certainty in his voice. However, he had to swallow hard to get the words around the lump he felt in his throat. He would miss his only child terribly, but he knew this is what she needed. "Please forgive us for not telling you sooner, baby. We just didn't want to get your hopes up and then have it not work out."

Carrie gave them a small smile and replied. "There's nothing to forgive. I love all of you for this gesture. Not everyone gets the chance to go to Hogwarts. So, I guess I'm going." A feeling of excitement and giddiness washed over her as she thought of it. It would be such a change, but this was exactly what she was looking for to combat the restless and emptiness she was feeling. "When does the new term start?"

Lisa handed the acceptance letter to Carrie, who read it intently. It was from a Professor Minerva McGonagall, explaining that the new term started on September 1st. The letter was written on fine parchment with handwriting that was neat and precise. Enclosed along with the acceptance letter was another parchment with a list of books that Carrie would need for her classes. She had some of the books in her possession, but Carrie figured she'd have to obtain the rest when she got to England. A dazed but happy expression crossed Carrie's face as the reality began to sink in.

"When do I leave?" asked Carrie. There was so much to do, and she had to say goodbye to her friends and voice teacher. A million and one things rushed through Carrie's brain, and she hardly knew where one thought began and one ended.

"We leave this Friday, Angel," said Gerald. "You, your mother, and I will Apparate to London, help you get your supplies, and then get you settled. The Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, thought it would be better if you arrived earlier than the rest of the students so you could learn your way around and get used to your surroundings before class begins."

"Merlin's beard! That's only two days from now!" Carrie exclaimed. "There's so much to do! I've got to pack, say goodbye to everyone, and—"

"Don't worry, dear. Everything will get done," assured Carrie's grandmother. "Just take one thing at a time," she was chuckling softly as she saw the harried expression on Carrie's face and the sparkle return to her eyes. "Can we safely assume you're happy about this?"

"Yes, I think I am. I'll miss all of you, but the funny thing is, I'm looking forward to going."

"We'll miss you, too, darling," said her grandfather softly. "You be sure you write to us now—no forgetting about your old family while you're off having a good time."

Carrie felt tears sting her eyes. So many emotions were running through her, and she didn't know if she wanted to laugh or cry or both. "I'll keep in touch, Grandpa. I promise." Carrie threw her arms around him as the tears finally came. "I'll miss you so much." She buried her face against him as she cried. Holding her tight and stroking her hair, Timothy spoke soft words of comfort in his Irish accent. Carrie cried for a while as her grandfather's strong arms enveloped her, making her feel safe and warm. After a time, she lifted her head, and looked into her grandfather's eyes.

"There now, love. You'll be alright." He took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at the tears on Carrie's face. "Give us a smile now, hmmm?"

Giving him a small, watery smile, she allowed him to finish drying her tears. "Just like when I was little," she said chuckling. "I love you."

"And I love you, darling," he said as he hugged her close. "Now, you'd better go start on that packing. You've a lot to get done."


	2. Chapter 2

**The Call of the Siren**

**Chapter 1**

**Harry**

Harry Potter sat on the edge of his bed at the Burrow. His friend, Ron Weasley, had invited him and their other friend, Hermione Granger, to stay the last part of the summer with them. School would start up the next day, and today was the day they boarded the Hogwarts Express to return to the castle. The three friends were anxiously awaiting their departure and return to Hogwarts to start their sixth year together.

Harry thought over his years at Hogwarts. There had been so many ups and downs, but he definitely considered Hogwarts his home. At school, Harry had found the first real family he could remember. He knew his parents loved him from what he'd been told by so many others, he just couldn't remember them.

There was no doubt in Harry's mind about the Dursleys not loving him. He'd suffered emotional turmoil and ridicule at their hands for eleven years before he'd found out he was a wizard and went to Hogwarts. As far as Harry was concerned, The Weasleys, Hermione, and Dumbledore were his family.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted as a knock sounded on the door. "Who is it?" Harry asked.

"It's Hermione," said a girl's voice. "Mrs. Weasley says breakfast will be ready in five minutes. And you'd better tell Ronald to get up!" Why Hermione had to be so energetic this early in the morning was beyond Harry. Running his fingers through his famously untidy black hair, Harry got off the bed and walked over to shake Ron awake.

"Bloody hell, Harry! It can't be morning yet," said Ron as he yawned sleepily. Ron tried to pull the covers back over his mop of red hair and turn over, but Harry was persistent.

"C'mon, Ron. Your Mum wants us to come to breakfast in five minutes. Now get up." Ron was definitely not a morning person.

"Brilliant," Ron muttered as he grudgingly threw back the covers. Harry grinned as Ron got out of bed and then headed off to the bathroom. As Harry descended the stairs, the smell of sausages, eggs, toast, and brewing coffee greeted his nostrils as he took his place at the table next to Hermione.

"It smells delicious, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry politely as she set a plate in front of him.

"Thank you, dear," smiled Molly Weasley as she fussed over Harry. "Now, tuck in. Ronald Weasley!" called Molly as she noticed that Ron wasn't down yet. "Get down here now!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Ron muttered as he tromped down the steps.

Breakfast was a noisy and happy affair with the Weasleys. Excited chatter and much laughter were heard all around as plans were being made for their departure to King's Cross. Ron and his sister Ginny were the only two Weasley children who still attended Hogwarts, Ginny being a year behind Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

After the meal was finished and the Burrow was quickly tidied by Molly, the young people scurried around making last minute checks to be sure hey had everything. Harry's trunk was already sitting with the rest of the trunks by the door, so all he had to carry from Ron's room was Hedwig's cage. The snowy owl sat patiently in her cage, aloofly taking in the bustling scene before her. They would be riding in a Muggle cab to King's Cross station, and Molly Weasley was no looking forward to that. The last time they'd ridden with a Muggle cabbie, he'd given them all dirty looks because of the amount of luggage and the animals they were bringing with them.

Dressed in Muggle clothing, the strange group left the Burrow, an assortment of animals and trunks accompanying them. Arthur Weasley hailed a cab, and everyone piled in, much to the shock and horror of the driver. "King's Cross, please," Arthur Weasley requested.

"Y-yes Sir," said the cabbie, trying not to gawk.

Everyone was piled in the cab like sardines, and the ride was bumpy and miserable. They were all thankful to have arrived in one piece when they exited the cab, and the driver breathed an obvious sigh of relief as he saw the backside of these strange passengers.

"Alright you lot, stick together. We don't want to be late for the train," Molly instructed.

Everyone dutifully followed her inside the station and headed off to Platform nine and three-quarters, talking excitedly and animatedly. For once, they were a little early, and everyone made it onto the train with little drama after walking through the magical barrier. Molly hugged and kissed her children goodbye and made a fuss over Harry. "Now, you be sure and look after yourself, Harry dear," she instructed as she tried to straighten his hair.

"I will, Mrs. Weasley," Harry reassured Ron's mother as he endured her fussing. "Try not to worry."

"Molly, we've got to leave," said Arthur, pulling on his wife's arm. "The train will be leaving in a moment."

"Alright, Arthur, I'm coming!" Molly said, a bit of panic in her voice. "Do you lot have everything?"

"Yes, Mum," Ron sighed in frustration.

"Molly!" Arthur yelled.

Molly threw everyone a last kiss and then trailed along behind her husband as they hurriedly exited the train. Once the adults were gone, the three young people found a compartment together and settled in for the long ride.

"Ron and I have Prefect Duty in a while, Harry. We'll come back as soon as we can," said Hermione as she smoothed down her bushy brown hair.

"Right," said Harry. I'll just wait here and save your seats."

Right at 11:00, the train began to move, and the long journey back to school began. Before long, Ron and Hermione excused themselves to fulfill the duties assigned to them as Prefects. Harry was content to remain where he was, and he stretched out on the seat and was soon fast asleep.

When Harry awoke, the sun was getting lower in the clear blue sky, so he knew he'd slept quite a long time. Looking around, he saw that Ron and Hermione had returned to the compartment.

"Have a good sleep, Mate," asked Ron as he grinned at Harry.

Harry nodded. "Guess I was more tired than I thought," he said rather sheepishly. "I'm starving!"

"We picked some things off the cart," said Hermione. "There's plenty left."

Harry rummaged through the pile of things Ron and Hermione had bought and settled on some chocolate frogs. As he ate, he thought about what this year at Hogwarts would bring. Harry hoped that this year would pass with relatively no trouble. Last year hadn't been a particularly good one, especially with his grief and guilt over Sirius' death so close to the surface of his emotions. Dolores Umbridge had made last year at Hogwarts miserable for all of them, and Snape's Occlumency lessons had been a disaster. Harry's thoughts were interrupted as Hermione addressed him.

"Harry, are you listening?" she asked in frustration.

"Oh, yeah, sorry Hermione," Harry apologized sheepishly. "I'm listening."

"Well, as I was saying. Did you know there's going to be an American at Hogwarts this year?" Hermione had overheard some of the students talking while she was on Prefect Duty.

"No, I didn't know," said Harry. "Do you know anything about him?

"Actually, it's a girl," said Hermione. "All I know is her name is Carrie something-or-other, and she's from Illinois someplace."

"Bloody hell!" said Ron.

"Put your eyes back in your head, Ronald, and pick your jaw off the floor," scolded Hermione. "You haven't even met her yet."

"But, a real American," gushed Ron.

"She's a student just like the rest of us," said Hermione with authority. "And it's our job to make sure she feels at home."

"Yes, Ma'am," said Ron.

Harry grinned as he listened to his two friends go at each other. Harry was surprised at the news. As far as he knew, only a few, if any, Americans had ever attended Hogwarts. Perhaps Dumbledore was working with an American school in starting an exchange program or an outreach of some sort. "That'll be an interesting change," Harry finally added his opinion into the conversation. "Do you know what year she's in?"

"Sixth, I think," said Hermione.

"Bloody hell! She knows everything," muttered Ron, referring to Hermione.

Harry laughed and quietly munched on a chocolate frog. The rest of the journey went by quickly, and the familiar sight of Hogsmeade Station greeted the weary travelers as the train Hogwarts Express came to a stop.

As the three friends got off the train, they waved to Hagrid, who was there collecting the first years. Everyone else piled into the carriages to be taken to the castle where the Sorting Hat Ceremony and the beginning of the year feast awaited them.

"Well, I wonder where the American is," whispered Ron to his friends as he looked around.

"Perhaps she came early," suggested Harry. "After all, there's a lot to straighten out when someone travels from overseas."

"I'm sure Dumbledore set up a safe place for them to Apparate to," said Hermione.

They continued talking about what the new student might be like as their carriage took them to Hogwarts. Harry felt his excitement well up inside him as the castle came into view. It certainly was a sight to see, especially in the dimming light of day. It looked even more beautiful in the moonlight.

Piling out of the carriage, the three friends made leisurely made their way to the castle. They knew that their pets and trunks would be taken care of, so they went straight to the Great Hall and found their seats at the Gryffindor table.

As Harry and his friends sat down, happy, excited chatter greeted Harry's ears, and he couldn't help but smile. He was home once again! This was truly where he belonged; there was no doubt about that.

Immediately, everyone became quiet as Professor Albus Dumbledore took the podium. "It is my pleasure to welcome everyone back to Hogwarts and to wish everyone a wonderful year of education and learning. Before we commence with the Sorting Ceremony, I would like to introduce to you a new students who is part of an exchange program that Hogwarts will be involved in. She is a sixth year student from America—Illinois, in fact. Her name is Carrietta Stafford, and she has been sorted into Gryffindor House. Let's give her a warn Hogwarts welcome, and please make her feel at home."

Everyone began clapping politely as a short, slight girl with long blond hair and blue eyes stood. She gave everyone a little wave as she smiled shyly and blushed. Harry noticed how dwarfed she looked next to everyone else as she sat back down. She looked friendly enough, and Harry thought to himself that she was indeed pretty.

Looking over at Ron, Harry noticed that he was blushing scarlet and trying not to make eye contact with the new girl. Harry had a feeling that his best friend was going to develop a major crush on the girl.

The Sorting Hat Ceremony began, and as usual, Harry was enthralled as he watched all the first years being sorted into their respective houses. When a new Gryffindor was called out, he applauded enthusiastically along with the others, smiling his welcome as each new first year Gryffindor took his or her seat. Harry remembered his own sorting, hoping and praying to whatever deity that would listen to not be sorted into Slytherin House. Draco Malfoy was a Slytherin, and he and Harry were archenemies.

When the sorting was completed, Dumbledore took the podium again, his voice booming out. "Let the feat begin! Tuck in, everyone!" And with that, food appeared on the tables and on the golden plates. Immediately, Harry began eating, savoring every bite of the delicious food. He looked over at Ron, who was still flushed and flustered.

"Well, why don't you introduce yourself to her, Mate?" whispered Harry as he leaned over toward Ron.

"Bloody hell! I can't do that, Harry. She'll think I'm a nutter," Ron piped up, his voice rising nearly an octave.

"If she's as nice as she looks, she'll welcome it. As Dumbledore said, we need to make her feel at home. And she is a Gryffindor, after all," Harry replied calmly.

"Then why don't YOU introduce yourself to her," shot back Ron.

"I will when I get a chance," said Harry. "Looks like Hermione's already beat us to it." Both boys looked toward the American girl and saw that she and Hermione were deeply engaged in conversation.

"Leave it to Hermione to start things off," said Ron as he stuffed a big bite of potatoes into his mouth.

Laughing, Harry continued to eat until he couldn't possibly take another bite. Some of the students began to yawn, and Harry felt his own exhaustion catching up with him. The feast always made him feel full and tired, and it never took him long to fall asleep on the first night back at the castle.

As the meal drew to a close, Dumbledore wished everyone a restful night and dismissed the students, instructing them to go to their rooms and get a good night's sleep. Classes would resume in the morning, and everyone needed to be well rested for the first full day back in session. Harry excused himself from the table, saying goodnight to everyone. As he started for the exit to the Great Hall, he bumped into something, startling him out of his wits.

"Oh, excuse me. I'm so sorry. I really need to watch where I'm going," said a distinct American voice. Harry looked down and saw the new girl, Carrietta, smiling shyly up at him. "How rude of me!" The girl flushed slightly as she apologized.

"No problem, er, I'm sorry. I forgot your name," said Harry, feeling a flush creep up his own cheeks.

"It's Carrietta Stafford. But, you can call me Carrie. Everyone does," she said as she extended her hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"Oh, sorry. Harry Potter," he replied, smiling self consciously. Harry extended his hand, and the two shook in salutation. "I hope you enjoy attending Hogwarts."

"Thanks Harry," smiled Carrie. "Say, you wouldn't happen to be the same Harry Potter that Vol—Voldemort tried to kill, would you?" Carrie's mouth formed a surprised "o" as she realized she'd asked such a bold question. "Oh, Merlin's beard! I'm sorry, Harry. You must think me awfully rude and uncouth," she looked down at her shoes.

"No, it's alright, Carrie. Yes, I'm the one. Don't worry about it. I get strange looks all the time," said Harry, shrugging his shoulders.

"I'm really sorry, Harry. I mean, for what you've gone through and losing your parents and all. It sounds horrible," she said softly, compassion evident in her voice. Carrie shuddered as she thought about what her life would be like without her family.

"It happened when I was only a baby," said Harry. "I don't remember them."

"Still, it's a horrible thing, especially if you didn't' know them," Carrie continued. "I miss my family already, and I've only been here a few days."

There was something about Carrie that put Harry at ease right away. He loved listening to her smooth, gentle voice. Hearing her speak, he felt as if waves of relaxation and calming were washing over him. What was it about that voice that made him feel this way? He felt as if he could just sit and listen to her all day.

"Tell me about you family," said Harry. "I'm sure you must miss them dreadfully, being so far away from home."

Carrie nodded emphatically. "I do. I haven't spent long bouts of time away from them like this before. It's a change. Well, my mother, Lisa, is a Healer at St. Mungo's Hospital of Springfield, and my father, Gerald, is a Transfiguration Professor at my previous school, the Springfield Academy. My Grandfather, Timothy, was an Auror, but he retired some years ago when the stress of the job was getting to him. In his younger days, he was on one of our top American Quidditch teams as a seeker. Bea, that's my grandmother, is a singer. Both Grandma and I are singers, in fact. I'm an only child, so I've been a bit spoiled," she laughed. "Oh goodness! This must sound so boring to you."

"No, not at all," said Harry. "Your family sounds really nice."

"Oh, they are. I'm really lucky to have them," said Carrie, smiling nostalgically.

"And you're a singer, you say? I thought you might be. I mean, from listening to you speak, you sound like you have a trained voice," Harry felt the heat rise to his face once again. _Potter, you're an idiot,_ Harry chided himself.

Carrie, however, didn't seem to notice his nervousness or embarrassment. "Yeah, I've been a singer for as long as I can remember," she said. "It's in my blood since Grandma also sings. She trained me up for as long as she could, and then my family found another teacher for me. It looks like I'll also be taking music lessons at Hogwarts, too."

"I'd like to hear you sing sometime, Carrie. I'm sure you must have a lovely voice," said Harry. He normally didn't dish out compliments so readily, but there was something about Carrie that made Harry feel that he could be truthful with her. He definitely wanted to get to know her better.

"I'd like that," said Carrie softly as she smiled up at him.

Just then, Ron and Hermione came running up to Harry, at first not seeing Carrie. "Harry, come on! It's getting late!" said Hermione. Noticing Carrie, she apologized, "Oh, sorry, Carrie. Do you want to come back to Gryffindor with us?"

"Sure, that would be great," said Carrie. "I've been here a few days, but I'm still learning my way around. I got lost the minute I got here," Carrie laughed.

"Bloody hell," Ron mumbled under his breath as he began blushing three shades of red. He glanced quickly at Carrie, who was smiling at all of them.

Hermione shot Ron a disgusted look, and emitted a long suffering sigh. "Ronald Weasley, this is Carrietta—Carrie—Stafford. Carrie, Ron Weasley,' Hermione quickly introduced her friend to the American girl.

"Nice to meet you, Ron," said Carrie, extending her hand in a friendly manner. "What year in school are you?"

"S-Sixth," Ron mumbled, looking down at the floor.

"We're all sixth years," said Hermione.

"Oh, that's great!" exclaimed Carrie. "We'll have most of our classes together then. I'm glad of that. I could definitely use some friends in my classes, especially on the first day. I'm a bit nervous."

"You'll do just fine, Carrie, "said Hermione. "We'll help you all we can, right boys?"

"Of course," replied Harry while Ron just nodded mutely.

Covering her mouth as she felt a huge yawn coming on, Carrie apologized profusely. "I'm sorry, you guys. I'm still not quite used to the time change between here and the States yet. And the amount of food I ate at that feast is making me feel sluggish. I definitely hear my bed calling my name," she laughed.

"I think it's time we all turn in," Hermione suggested as they began walking toward Gryffindor Tower. Harry gave the password to the Fat Lady, and all four of them climbed in through the portrait hole, the door closing behind them as they stepped inside the common room.

"Goodnight everyone," said Carrie as she waved to the other three and began climbing the stairs to the girls' dormitory. "It was nice meeting all of you."

"G'night, Carrie," called Harry, and Ron.

"Sleep well," called Hermione.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Call of the Siren**

**Chapter 2**

**Carrie**

Carrie was kept busy day and night until the time of her departure to England. She had immediately begun her packing after dinner that Wednesday night when her family told her she'd be attending Hogwarts. The only time she'd stopped bustling around was when she was sleeping, and even then, her mind would be working overtime. Carrie's dreams consisted of what Hogwarts would look like, what her teachers would be like, and the kind of classes she'd be taking. Carrie figured that many of the classes, such as Transfiguration and Charms, would be taught at Hogwarts. After all, that was standard Wizarding curriculum. She fervently hoped that she'd have a good music teacher like Randolph. It would be an adjustment for Carrie to get used to being taught by someone else.

Departure Day finally arrived and Carrie felt a strange mixture of emotions coursing through her. Yes, she was excited, and she felt that bubble up inside her as if it were high tide. Carrie loved new adventures, and the anticipation was strong within her as she made her final preparations to leave. On the other side of the coin, a sense of sadness and loneliness accosted her already. She's miss her family, friends, and other teachers terribly. Rivulets of premature homesickness cascaded down upon Carrie as unexpected tears filled her eyes.

_I will not cry, _she admonished herself. Blinking furiously and swallowing hard, she managed to get herself back under control as her grandparents came into the living room to say their goodbyes.

"Now remember, dear, to write home. We wan to hear about all the new friends you'll make and how your classes are going," said her grandmother as she folded Carrie into her arms and hugged her to her chest.

"I will, Grandma. I promise," whispered Carrie as she returned the hug. Carrie couldn't hold back the tears this time. "I'm going to miss you."

Bea pulled back and looked into Carrie's watery eyes. "Don't cry, darling," she said. "This is a happy occasion. You're going to be alright." Carrie's grandmother pulled out a handkerchief and dried the tears on Carrie's cheeks.

Next, Timothy hugged Carrie, his own emotions evident. "I love you, darling," he said, his Irish accent apparent as emotion choked his voice. "You have a wonderful time, and don't let too many boys flirt with ye, alright?"

Carrie laughed through the onslaught of tears that her grandfather's embrace brought on. Oh, how she would miss him and his Irish accent! "I will, Grandpa. Don't worry. And I doubt that many boys will notice me. They never did here." Carrie was giggling slightly as she fought the homesickness she was already feeling.

"That's not true, darling. And if it were true, they'd be blind if they didn't notice you. You're the prettiest girl in school," her Grandfather said, giving Carrie a final squeeze.

"I think you're biased, Grandpa," she chuckled.

"Maybe so, but I know a pretty girl when I see one."

"We've got to get going, Angel," said Carrie's father as he and her mother came back into the living room.

"Do you have everything, dear?" her mother asked.

"I think so. Oh, wait. I've got to get Charlotte's cage," said Carrie as she turned toward the stairs to go to her room.

"She's right here," said Gerald.

Charlotte was Carrie's snowy owl that she'd had since her first day in school. Carrie also had a pet Phoenix named Crawford that her grandfather had found for her when she was fourteen. The two of them spent much time taming Crawford, and he eventually became Carrie's special friend and confidante, as another one of Carrie's talents was being able to communicate with animals and understand them. She did this telepathically along with using some audible sounds. It was always wondrous to her every time she linked up with an animal and befriended a creature.

Carrie reached out for Crawford with her mind to let him know it was time to go. The beautiful Phoenix flew through a window in the living room as her father opened it for him. Crawford landed smoothly on Carrie's shoulder and perched there while she stroked his warm feathers tenderly. Leaning her cheek against his softness, Crawford squeezed Carrie's shoulder gently with his talons to convey love and comfort to her.

"Alright, everyone. Looks like we're ready," said Gerald as he picked up Carrie's trunk. Lisa was holding Charlotte's cage in one hand and wrapped her other around Carrie's waist as they prepared to Apparate. Crawford took a tighter hold on Carrie's shoulder, and she reached her free hand up to be sure he was secure. Carrie's grandparents waved to them as Lisa, Gerald, Carrie, and her pets disappeared into thin air.

The next instant, they found themselves a couple streets away from The Leaky Cauldron in London where they'd be staying overnight. Professor Dumbledore had arranged for the Hogwarts Express to take Carrie and her parents to Hogwarts the next day so they could help her get settled into her new surroundings. Carrie looked around and surveyed the crowd of witches and wizards that were milling around as they went about their business.

"Merlin's beard, this place is busy!" exclaimed Carrie. "Everyone's in such a hurry."

The three Americans went inside the Leaky Cauldron, and Tom was there to greet them. "Well, hello there," he said jovially. "What can I do for you?"

"We're Gerald and Lisa Stafford, and this is our daughter, Carrie. She'll be attending Hogwarts this year. I believe Albus Dumbledore contacted you about our staying the night tonight," said Gerald, smiling at Tom.

"Ah yes, the Americans! Yes, Dumbledore told me about you. Your lodgings are ready now. Please follow me. My name is Tom, and I'll be happy to serve you." Tom picked up Carrie's trunk and led the way up a flight of stairs.

Tom opened a door for them, and they entered a suite of comfortable looking rooms. The sitting room was lit by candles, giving it a romantic feel. A big, squishy couch was along the far wall adjacent to the fireplace where a crackling fire was already lit. Two chairs were comfortably spaced on the other side with a table between them. Off the sitting room were two bedrooms—one for Carrie's parents and one for her. Both possessed big King Sized beds with a canopy over each one. A closet and small dresser were in each of the bedrooms, and scented candles and a vase of flowers were on top of the dressers.

"This is lovely," said Lisa. "Thank you for going to the trouble to accommodate us." Lisa smiled appreciatively at Tom as she looked around.

"No trouble at all, Ma'am. Happy to oblige. I'm sure you'll want to freshen up a bit and relax. When you're ready, please feel free to come down to the pub for dinner and drinks," said Tom as he put Carrie's trunk down. "We'll make sure you're up in plenty of time to get to the train station. The change of time is murder on the body."

The Staffords thanked Tom again, and Gerald helped Carrie take her trunk to the bedroom she'd be staying in. Carrie looked out the window at the darkening sky in wonder. It had been full daylight when they'd left home just a bit ago, but it was getting dark in London.

"I think I'll run a brush through my hair and then I'd like to go down for some dinner, if that's OK, Mom and Dad," said Carrie. "It may take my body some time to get used to the time difference, but my stomach is telling me it's dinner time." She grinned and opened her trunk to retrieve her hairbrush.

"That's fine, dear," said her mother. "We'll meet you in the sitting room in ten minutes."

After freshening up a bit, the little family went down to the pub and was escorted to a quiet table where they could enjoy their last dinner as a family before the journey to Hogwarts.

They lingered leisurely over dinner and butterbeer, enjoying their last night together. Finally, it was time for them to turn in, as the next day would be a long one. As they headed back to their room, they smiled at Tom and told him that dinner had been lovely. Carrie prepared herself for bed, singing softly as she got into her nightgown. After she brushed her teeth, she studies her reflection in the mirror for a long time. She hoped that her appearance wouldn't scream "American!" when she met the rest of the Hogwarts students. She really wanted to fit in and be accepted. Carrie, then, crawled under the warm covers and was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

The next thing Carrie knew, someone was knocking on the door to her room, and her mother was telling her to get up. They needed to grab a quick breakfast and then hurry to get ready to leave for King's Cross. The Hogwarts Express was due to leave at 11:00 that morning.

Carrie quickly showered, singing to herself as the hot water beat down upon her. Feelings of apprehension and anticipation took their turns waging war with her mind as she dressed and brushed her hair. Carrie repacked her trunk which didn't take her long since she'd only taken a few things out the night before. Closing the latches, she emerged from her room and met her parents in the sitting room.

Lisa surveyed her daughter's appearance and then put a drying charm on Carrie's hair. Since Carrie was underage and away from school, she couldn't do it herself like she normally did. At times she felt like such a child in situations like this. Carrie smiled sheepishly at her mother as she felt the moisture leave her long hair, and she arranged the tresses of waves around her shoulders.

"Thanks, Mom. I hate going around with wet hair. This underage magic stuff is stupid," she muttered.

"Now dear, the Ministry makes those rules for a reason. Sometimes people abuse magic, and this is what they came up with to keep tabs on it," said her mother.

"It's just that I feel like a little kid. I mean, it's just a simple drying charm for Merlin's sake. Honestly, I can do it myself. I've done it for years."

"Getting too big for your britches there, Angel?" asked Gerald, chuckling softly.

"You'll never be too old for your mom to fix you up," said Lisa, smiling at Carrie.

"I know, Mom. It's just hard sometimes. There are times I want to stay a little kid, but I realize I'll be seventeen and an adult in just over four months. It's difficult when you're stuck in the middle," sighed Carrie.

"This is a rough age for anyone, honey," her mother continued. "Things sometimes don't get any easier when you're older though. There's a whole new set of problems and experiences waiting for you when you become an adult."

Carrie nodded, and the conversation turned to going down to breakfast. They quickly made their way to the pub and hurriedly ate their meal, keeping close tabs on the time as they ate. Carrie ate in silence, lost in thought about the upcoming school year. Her parents didn't pressure her to keep up with conversation, sensing that Carrie needed to be alone with her own musings for the time being.

As they exited the pub, they saw that Tom had already arranged for the luggage to be brought down so the Staffords didn't have to go back upstairs. Crawford was sitting on Carrie's trunk but flew to her shoulder when he saw Carrie. Again, they thanked Tom as he told them that a carriage would be meeting them outside in a few minutes to take them to the train station.

The ride to the station was uneventful, and Carrie and her parents enjoyed just watching the world go by as they rode. When they arrived at King's Cross, the driver helped Carrie to the ground while her father alighted and picked up Carrie's trunk. They thanked the driver politely and made their way to Platform nine and three quarters, walking through the magical barrier that led to the Hogwarts Express.

The American family settled into a compartment that they had all to themselves and awaited the long train ride. Gerald and Lisa were soon engrossed in reading books they'd brought along, and Carrie picked up her crocheting that she'd been working on. She loved making Afghans and sweaters, even if she had to hand stitch them when she was away from school. Singing softly, she began to work, her hook and fingers handling the yarn deftly. Carrie knew she was allowed to use magic here on the train, but she decided to crochet by hand as it would pass the time more quickly. The Siren quickly lost herself in her work and was startled when a witch wheeling a cart appeared at the entrance to their compartment and asked if they wanted anything. Carrie put down her crocheting and picked a few things off the cart, thanking the witch as she paid for her purchases.

Grinning, Carrie tossed a chocolate frog to each of her parents and opened one for herself. "Oh, looks like I've got Dumbledore," she said as she smiled. She loved those little cards and had quite a collection of them.

After a time, the journey was over. Gathering their things, the American family stepped off the train and found themselves in Hogsmeade Station. They had been told that an escort would be meeting them and would take them up to the castle. As it turned out, they didn't have to wait long. A booming voice rang out as a huge, bearded man approached them.

"Well, 'ello ter ya!" The big man smiled warmly at them. "My name's Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper o Keys a Hogwarts. I'm also the Care o' Magical Creatures teacher. Ye can call me Hagrid."

Carrie gaped as she looked up at this smiling, energetic man. He was the biggest man she had ever seen. Hagrid's long black hair and beard were a bit messy, and he wore a huge cloak over his clothing. To Carrie, Hagrid stood as high as the sky, and she had to look way up to get a good look at him. The giant man's eyes twinkled with warmth and laughter, and although his voice was loud, it had a friendly quality to it.

"I'm Gerald Stafford, and this is my wife, Lisa. And this is our daughter, Carrietta," said Gerald as he extended his hand to the huge man standing before him. "Carrie, put your eyes back in your head and say hello to our escort."

Hagrid shook Gerald's hand enthusiastically, nearly knocking him off his feet. Hagrid then shook hands with Lisa but was a bit gentler about it. He sensed, however, that Carrie was the most taken aback by his size, so he squatted down so he'd be more on her level and lowered his voice as he talked to her. "'ello, Carrietta. I'm righ' pleased ter meet ye," he said in a soft tone of voice.

Carrie, finally recovering her voice and composing her face, said in a barely audible voice. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Hagrid. I-I'm so sorry for staring. It's just—well—"

Hagrid grinned down at her and replied, "I understan', li'le miss. My size can be a bi' scary ter some folks, Carrietta. Yer no' t'e firs' ter gawk."

"You can just call me Carrie if you like, Mr. Hagrid, Sir. Everyone does. And I certainly apologize for being so rude. I hope you'll forgive me," she said as she blushed and looked down at the ground.

"There's nothin' ter forgive, Carrie. And jus' call me Hagrid. Will ye be takin' Care o' Magical Creatures this year?" asked Hagrid hopefully.

"Oh certainly. That was always one of my favorite classes," Carrie beamed up at him. "I love animals." Carrie pointed out Crawford and Charlotte to him, and Hagrid grinned at the beautiful owl and wise looking Phoenix.

"Ye know, Dumbledore's t'e only one I e'er knew to 'ave a Phoenix," said Hagrid. "They're rare."

"I know. My grandfather found Crawford and helped me tame him. He's one of my best friends," Carrie was grinning. She was beginning to like Hagrid, and she hoped she'd be seeing a lot more of him while she was at Hogwarts.

Hagrid escorted the newcomers to the castle and showed them the way to Dumbledore's office. The Headmaster had asked them to report directly to him so he could help get Carrie's schedule laid out and go over everything Carrie would need to know with her and her parents. Hagrid gave the password to the Gargoyle and beckoned them inside the entrance, pointing out the door to the Headmaster's inner office. He said his goodbyes as Gerald knocked on the door. "Enter," came a commanding voice from inside. Gerald opened the door and escorted his wife and daughter inside.

Sitting behind a huge desk, the man who caught their eye was an elderly wizard with long flowing white hair and beard. His blue eyes twinkled behind his half moon spectacles, and he was dressed in stately robes of midnight blue. This was Albus Dumbledore, the legendary Headmaster of Hogwarts!

Dumbledore smiled warmly at the little family and beckoned them to sit sown in the three chairs he'd placed before his desk. "Good evening! I am Albus Dumbledore. You must be the Staffords. Is that correct?"

"Yes, Sir, I'm Gerald Stafford, my wife, Lisa, and our daughter, Carrietta. We want to thank you for accepting our daughter at your school," said Carrie's father.

"I assure you, we are happy to have Ms. Stafford with us," said the professor kindly as he nodded and smiled at Carrie. "It has always been my wish for Hogwarts to reach out to other Wizarding schools, and our staff will see that you settle in nicely, Carrietta."

"Please, Sir. You can call me Carrie if you like," she said in her soft and gentle voice. "I look forward to the start of term, and I'd like to thank you myself for allowing me to come here."

"You are most welcome, Carrie," said Dumbledore. "Now, shall we get down to business? You have scored most excellently on your O.W.L.'s according to my report. Your top scores appear to be in Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Music, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Care of Magical Creatures. I see you also wish to take Muggle Studies, Arithmancy, and Runes. Is that correct, Carrie?"

"Yes, sir. Will my schedule allow that?"

"Certainly. Ah, I see your lowest O.W.L. was in Herbology. I see you received an "A" which is far below your other scores. Did you have difficulty with the material?" the Professor asked as his brow creased in concentration.

Carrie laughed in spite of herself. She'd been so embarrassed over her Herbology grade at first and had endured much teasing and ribbing from her friends about it. "Well, let's just say I have a black thumb. I tend to kill everything I touch. The Herbology professor at home was relieved to see the backside of me at the end of last term, I'm sure." Carrie gave Dumbledore a wry smile.

"Ah, we each have our own strengths and weaknesses." The Headmaster's kind voice went right into Carrie's soul. She immediately felt at ease with him and knew that this was someone she could trust. In a way, he reminded Carrie of her grandfather. Thought of him caused Carrie's heart to ache a little from missing him, and a sad little sigh escaped her.

"Are you alright, my dear?" asked Dumbledore. "Is something troubling you?"

"No, Professor. I was just thinking of my grandfather, that's all. I miss him already," said Carrie softly.

"That is indeed understandable, Carrie. It is hard leaving behind those we love." Dumbledore smiled gently at her, conveying his understanding.

They all discussed Carrie's schedule for a while, slotting in classes in the appropriate times. As Carrie took a look at the final draft, she was well pleased. She'd be busy with the classes she was taking, but there was also plenty of time for her to study and have time for making friends. She was pleased that she'd be having extra COMC classes with Hagrid and that she'd be taking extensive music classes as well as private lessons. Dumbledore handed Carrie some parchments, explaining what they were. "This is what will be covered in your classes at the start of term," said Dumbledore. "It is advisable that you spend some time in the library getting caught up so you will be ready when classes resume. I'm sure much of this material is at least somewhat familiar to you."

"Thank you, Professor. I was worried about how to get caught up. This will certainly be of assistance to me," said Carrie politely.

"Very well, then. Now, we must get your sorted into the house you'll be residing in while you are with us. Hogwarts is divided into four houses. The Sorting Hat will decide which house you are best suited for. The houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Let's see which house you will be in, shall we?" The professor picked up a battered old black hat and placed it on Carrie's head. It was so big that it obscured her face, and all Carrie could see was blackness as it covered her head.

Carrie heard a voice in her ears as the hat looked inside her mind. "Hmmm. Very interesting. You have talent and brains. You know how to speak your mind and your courage is certainly noticeable. Very tough decision indeed. Better make her—Gryffindor!" the voice shouted triumphantly, and Carrie couldn't help but grin. She'd heard that Gryffindor was a good house to be sorted into. Dumbledore removed the hat from Carrie's head, and she blinked as the light hit her constricted pupils.

"Congratulations Carrie. You are now a member of Gryffindor House. I am very pleased," smiled Dumbledore.

"Thank you, sir. I'm pleased as well," grinned Carrie.

"Since that is now done, I'd like to talk with you about your—talents," said Dumbledore very seriously. "It is my understanding that you are an extraordinary witch."

Carrie chuckled at that. She didn't think of herself as anything special or extraordinary. "I don't know about that, Sir. I'm just—me."

"Let me assure you, Carrie. You possess talents and gifts that not many witches and wizards possess. First of all, there is your singing. You are part Siren, as is your grandmother, I understand. That is a unique quality and it is one that must be handled very carefully. According to my report, you've received extensive training in controlling this ability." Dumbledore's remark was a statement rather than a question.

"Yes, Professor. My grandmother taught me for years and then my family found me an excellent teacher. I've been with him now for nearly 4 years," said Carrie. "Randolph, that's my teacher at home, is very familiar with the abilities that Sirens have, and he's been teaching me proper control and channeling of my powers. I would very much like to continue this area of learning if I may."

"Yes, indeed," the Headmaster nodded. "Our music teacher, Adrienne Croft, is very capable of teaching this area of music. I would like you to start your lessons with her before classes resume. Does that suit you?"

Carrie nodded, and Dumbledore continued. "It appears that you have the ability to communicate with animals. That is indeed a wonderful gift to be proud of. You have already met our Care of Magical Creatures professor, Rubeus Hagrid. I'm sure he will be thrilled when he learns you have this ability. As you know, your schedule is adjusted accordingly so that you can take extra studies in this area."

Again, Carrie nodded. "I'm glad of that, and I'm sure I'll enjoy working with Hagrid. I like him," Carrie said with a smile in her voice.

"Most excellent! It has also come to my attention that you are skilled in Legilimency and Occlumency, Carrie. These are skills that most young wizards have difficulty in learning. May I ask what caused you to have the desire to study these arts?" Dumbledore looked into Carrie's eyes as he voiced the question to her.

"Of course," she smiled. "My family and I thought it would be a good idea for me to learn how to use them. You see, because I am part Siren, there is a lot of power and magic for usage. We felt it was best that I learn Occlumency and Legilimency so I could not be used against my will to use my—uh—ability for evil purposes if I ever fell into the wrong hands. There are certain precautions a Siren must take to ensure her safety."

"A very wise decision, indeed," said Dumbledore, nodding. "And yet, you did fall into the wrong hands last year." Dumbledore's expression turned to that of compassion and concern as he studied Carrie. At the mention of her ordeal, Carrie went white, and she reached for her father's hand.

Swallowing hard, she nodded and said meekly, "Yes, sir. I was taken hostage and was ordered to sing a Death Song, a very Dark Song that would cause much killing and destruction. This is something I refused to do because of the amount of destruction it would cause. It would also be harmful to me if I sang that particular Dark Song. It would require a lot of power on my part—too much power, in fact. My strength would be sapped, causing my life to be in danger from weakness and illness. My captor tried to force me to do it by using the Imperious Curse on me, but I was able to throw it off. When that didn't work and when I refused to do as he demanded, I was exposed repeatedly to the Cruciatus Curse. Professor, I nearly died from this experience." By the time she was done with her explanation, she was squeezing her father's hand tightly, and she trembled slightly as she sat in her seat.

Dumbledore looked aghast as he listened to Carrie's story. A brief outline of it was in her report, submitted by her parents. However, listening to Carrie reveal it herself caused Dumbledore's heart to go out to her. Reaching across his huge desk, he took Carrie's free hand gently in his own and leaned over his desk so he could peer closely into her face. "I'm truly, truly sorry for what you went through, my dear. I can see how frightening it must have been for you. My heart goes out to you." He squeezed Carrie's hand gently before letting her go and straightening up in his chair.

As Dumbledore's hand made contact with Carrie's, something happened to her—something she couldn't explain. It almost felt like an electric current was running through her, only it didn't hurt. There was something about Dumbledore that she couldn't put her finger on. Carrie could swear she felt a kind of "connection" to him as their hands touched. Why would she feel this way about someone she just met? Why would his touch evoke such feelings in her?

"Are you alright, Carrie?" the elderly Headmaster asked in concern. "You look rather dazed."

"Uh, I'm fine, Professor. I-I can't explain it. There's something that I just—" she trailed off and shook her head in bewilderment. "Oh, never mind. I think my imagination is running away with me."

"Very well, then," said the professor. "There are some things I'd like to discuss with your parents, Carrie. If you'd like, you are more than welcome to get settled up in Gryffindor Tower. Your room will be number six. Your trunk has already been taken there for you. Hagrid will show you the way to the common room and point out the correct staircase leading to the girls' dormitory." Dumbledore handed Carrie a small piece of parchment. "This is the current password that you will need to give to the Fat Lady—she is the portrait leading into the common room. Without that, you won't be able to get inside. When we are finished, I will send your parents to the common room to collect you. You will all share dinner with the staff and me in the Great Hall before your parents return to Hogsmeade."

"Alright Professor," said Carrie. "Thank you for your time."

Dumbledore nodded as Carrie excused herself and left the Headmaster's office. When Dumbledore knew Carrie was out of earshot, he addressed Gerald and Lisa. "I trust you have not told her yet?"

Sighing heavily, Gerald shook his head. "No, Uncle Albus. Carrie still has no idea that you're her great-uncle."

"Gerald, the longer this is put off, the harder it will be on all of us," Dumbledore scolded him gently.

"I know, Uncle. It was hard enough convincing her on such short notice that coming to Hogwarts was the right thing to do. We didn't want to overload her with too many revelations too quickly."

"If it is your wish, I will tell her in my own way when the time is right," said Dumbledore.

"Perhaps she'll take it better coming from you, Uncle Albus," said Lisa. "She might resent us for keeping this from her for so many years."

"Do not fret. I will tell Carrie in due course. She will be safe in my protection, I promise you." Dumbledore looked into the faces of Carrie's parents reassuringly as he spoke. "I will do my best to make her understand about our situation."

"We know you will, Uncle Albus. If anyone can make her understand, it will be you," said Gerald.

"I saw her face when you reached for her hand, Uncle. I know my daughter well enough to know she felt the connection we share with you. Her mental abilities are very keen," chimed in Lisa.

"Yes," Dumbledore said softly, his eyes growing misty for a moment. "Please try not to worry yourselves. Carrie will be alright. I'll see to it. All will be well."

"Thank you, Uncle Albus," said Lisa as her eyes filled with tears. "You've been so kind—to all of us."

Dumbledore smiled and patted Lisa's hand comfortingly. "Now, let us enjoy our dinner."


	4. Chapter 4

**The Call of the Siren**

**Chapter 3**

**Harry**

Harry awoke to the sound of Ron's snoring the next morning. Looking at his watch, he groaned as he realized it was time to get up and get the day started. It didn't help that his first class was Potions. Dealing with Snape first so early in the morning wasn't Harry's idea of a fun start.

Drawing the curtains, Harry saw that it was a bright, sunny day, perfect for practicing Quidditch. He was definitely looking forward to fulfilling his position as Gryffindor Quidditch Team Captain. It helped to squash some of the disappointment he'd felt since last year about not being named a Prefect. There were some positions Harry knew that he needed to fill this year since some of the players had graduated and left Hogwarts, and Harry wasn't looking forward to tryouts. Oh well. That was part of being the Captain, after all.

Harry showered and dressed quickly, and then went back to his room to shake Ron awake. Ron was always so hard to get up in the morning, especially on the first day of classes. It was a wonder he made it to his first class at all.

"Ron, get up. C'mon, Mate. Time to get ready for class," said Harry as he forcefully shook Ron's shoulder.

"Bloody hell, Harry. Let's just skip it today, OK?" Ron mumbled as he yawned hugely.

"We can't do that, especially on the first day. Now get up! We'll be late for breakfast."

Muttering darkly to himself, Ron reluctantly pulled back the covers and peeled himself out of bed. He staggered off to the shower while Harry waited for him in their room. When Ron emerged, they ambled down to the Great Hall to begin the morning with breakfast.

Harry and Ron slid into their chairs and noticed that Hermione was already there. "What took the two of you so long?" she asked, giving them a quizzical look.

"My fault, Hermione," Ron grumbled as he stuffed his mouth full of sausages. "Mmm, good," Ron proclaimed around a mouthful of food.

"You are disgusting sometimes, Ronald," scolded Hermione while Harry laughed.

Just then, Harry saw Carrie approaching their table. She was wearing pretty sky blue robes that billowed around her as she walked gracefully across the floor. She looked as if she were floating, and Harry couldn't help but notice how lovely she looked. Her long, blond hair fell down her back in masses of curls rather than the waves he saw her wearing the day before. She looked about half asleep as she flopped into the empty chair next to him.

"Coffee," she grumbled as she propped her head on her hand.

"Good morning, sunshine," grinned Hermione.

"Says who?" Carrie was not a morning person.

Ron snickered as he watched Carrie. "Better get the woman some coffee, Mate."

"Coming right up, Carrie," said Harry as he passed her the pot.

Carrie nodded as she poured herself a cup of strong, black coffee. She just didn't have the energy yet to even mutter a thank you. Carrie held the cup in her hands and took a whiff of the coffee fumes as the steam rose up to greet her nostrils. She took a long sip and nearly sighed with relief as the strong brew made its way to her stomach. As she drank, she felt the caffeine begin to take effect. "Ah, that's better. Hey, thanks, Harry."

"You're worse than I am in the morning," said Ron. This was the first complete sentence he'd said to Carrie since they met yesterday, but Carrie didn't notice.

"I am pretty bad," she laughed. "I need about two cups of coffee to get myself rocking and rolling in the mornings. I'm pathetic."

The four Gryffindors talked amongst themselves as they ate. Harry found that Carrie was easy to talk to—once she had her coffee. He asked about her arrival at Hogwarts, and she told him about leaving home, the ride on the Hogwarts Express, and meeting Dumbledore. "After we got my schedule straightened out, my parents stayed for dinner and we met some of the other teachers. Um, let's see. I met Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sinistra. Oh, and Hagrid met us at Hogsmeade Station and brought us to the castle. I haven't met them all yet though. I spent most of my time in the library trying to read up on what we'd be studying. It's rather creepy here when there are only a few people here."

"I usually stay here over the winter holiday," said Harry. "A few of us do, and yes, sometimes it is a bit creepy when there's only a small group left behind."

Breakfast drew to a close as they talked. True to Hermione's nature, she reminded everyone that they'd better get to class or Snape would deduct house points. Carrie turned inquiring eyes on Harry and his friends at the mention of Snape. "Who's he?" she asked.

"He's the Potions teacher," said Harry in disgust, as he narrowed his green eyes. "Whatever you do, don't cross him. He's impossible to deal with, and he has a strong dislike for Gryffindors."

"He really hates Harry," said Ron. "He has since the day Harry got here."

"But why?" asked Carrie. "How could someone just hate you right off the bat? I don't understand."

"It's because Harry's famous," said Hermione, a note of authority in her voice. It was quite obvious to Carrie that Hermione liked to be the informative one.

"And he's famous because of what You-Know-Who did," Carrie said as she lowered her voice to a whisper.

The other three nodded and Carrie shrugged. "Hell of a thing to be famous for," she surmised. Carrie's gaze caught the lightning bolt shaped scar on Harry's forehead, and she gave him a sympathetic look.

They walked in silence to their Potions class and took their seats, waiting for Snape to begin the lesson. As Snape entered the room, he fixed Harry with a cold stare, and Harry's lips thinned in a line of disapproval as Snape walked, very slowly, to the front of the room.

"Today, we will be studying sleeping draughts. We will learn about the reasons for their usage, their effects, side effects, and the dangers in using them. You will be preparing one today in this classroom, and I expect top quality work. After all, you are here in this class because of your high marks on your O.W.L.'s. I trust that you all have the amount of intelligence required to pass this sixth year class." Snape then sneered at Harry and continued. "I stand corrected. Not all of you possess the intelligence to pass this class." It was obvious to everyone in the classroom who Snape was talking about. Harry's face turned red with anger and embarrassment while Carrie gaped in confusion at this dark figure standing before them.

At Snape's command, the students opened their books and listened while Snape talked about sleeping draughts and their properties. He then told the class it was time to make the potion. While everyone was getting their cauldrons ready, Harry leaned over and whispered to Carrie, "See, I told you. He's always like that."

"He gives me the willies," said Carrie as she shook her head in bewilderment.

"Just stay out of his way and don't give him cause to yell at you," advised Hermione.

Harry was deep in concentration as he began mixing his potion. As he worked, he became aware of beautiful singing close by. Glancing up, he glimpsed Carrie, lost in her potion making while singing as she happily mixed and stirred. Harry was enthralled! He felt himself begin to relax as he listened to her, the knots of tension loosening from his muscles. Carrie's sweet soprano voice carried to his ears and floated around him. A sense of calmness and contentment flowed through Harry as he listened. There was something about her voice that affected him this way. What was it? He noticed it when he heard her speak, and it was even more prevalent as she sang. There was just something about that voice!

"Miss Stafford," Snape said as he approached the front of Carrie's table. "You will remain quiet during Potion making. This is not a concert hall. Do I make myself clear?"

"Y-yes, Sir," said Carrie meekly. "I'm really sorry."

"Consider this a warning, Miss Stafford. Next time I will deduct house points from Gryffindor. If you persist in your caterwauling after that, you will find yourself in detention." Snape then turned his back on a shocked and confused Carrie. She lowered her gaze and obscured her face behind a curtain of long hair as she continued to work on her potion.

Harry was livid. Snape was nasty, he knew, but there was no reason to yell at Carrie. Harry figured he wasn't the only one who enjoyed her singing, but he also wondered if he was the only one who was affected so deeply by it. He hadn't wanted her to stop singing. In fact, he felt as if he could listen to Carrie sing forever. A sense of loss came over Harry as the sound of Carrie's sweet voice died away, and he found himself longing for her to sing again.

Harry's reverie and fuming were interrupted as Ron leaned over to whisper to him. "She looks embarrassed," he said as he moved his gaze toward where Carrie was working.

Harry looked toward her but couldn't see her face clearly. Her hair was hiding her face, and she was hunched over her cauldron, stirring furiously. "I feel terrible for her. Snape didn't have to yell at her like that. I like her singing, in fact. It must help her to concentrate. There's no crime in that."

Potions class rolled along slowly, and Harry was counting the minutes until it ended. As he completed the last step to making his potion, he looked over toward Carrie again and saw that she had already corked her vial and was cleaning up. Ron was right. She did look embarrassed. He hoped for an opportunity to be able to talk with her again soon. Harry filled and corked his own vial and gave Snape a dirty look as he took his sample up to Snape's desk. Harry was still rather put out about Snape's treatment of Carrie. It was one thing for Snape to pick on him, and that was bad enough. But, when he ranted and raved at someone he liked, Harry's temper flared.

Harry began to examine his thoughts as he went to his desk to collect his things. Did he like Carrie? He'd only met her the night before. She seemed nice enough, and she was easy to talk to, but he hardly knew her. She'd told him a little about her family, but what kind of person was this girl? She was truly lovely, and he yearned to listen to her sing again. Right now, Harry just didn't know what to make of this American.

"Harry, are you listening? Hey, Harry!" Hermione was waving her hand in front of his face. She'd been talking to him, but Harry hadn't heard a thing she said.

"Er, sorry Hermione. I was just—"

"Wool gathering," she shot back. "What's going on with you today, Harry?"

"Nothing," he mumbled. He didn't want to admit to either Ron her Hermione that he'd been thinking about Carrie or how he wanted to hear her sing again. They'd only say he was mental.

The rest of the day flew by as the students went from class to class. The first day back in session was always a busy one. Throughout the day, Harry found himself glancing at Carrie from time to time, but she was always engrossed in what she was working on. He noticed that she'd been quiet ever since Snape's class, and in spite of himself, his heart went out to her. It must be hard being the new kid in school, especially in another country.

He shook his head and mentally slapped himself. What on earth was wrong with him? Why was he so concerned about Carrie so much? What was it about her that made his insides turn to mush and his heart beat faster? She was just a pretty girl with a lovely singing voice, that's all.

Harry was rather relieved when the last class of the day was over. He'd found it difficult to concentrate today, and Hermione, being the astute person she was, noticed it right away.

"Harry, are you alright?" she asked in concern as the three friends were walking to the Great Hall for diner. "You seem distracted, like your mind isn't with us. What is it?"

"It's nothing, Hermione. I'm fine," said Harry, trying to reassure his bookish friend.

"Somehow, I don't believe you," she said softly. "Come on, Harry, out with it. You know you can tell Ron and me anything. What's eating you?"

Harry stopped walking and beckoned Ron and Hermione away from the crowd of students and teachers on their way to dinner. They made their way to an empty corner of the hallway, and Harry looked around before whispering quietly to his friends. "I don't know. It's that new girl, Carrie. I can't put my finger on it, but there's something about her, something that's—um—not normal," he said as he ran his fingers through his untidy black hair, making it even messier.

"She looks normal to me," said Ron. "In fact, she's gorgeous!"

"I'm not talking about looks, Ron," said Harry, trying to put it into words. "You're right, she is pretty, but that's not what I'm talking about." Harry threw up his hands and sighed in frustration.

"What do you mean, Harry? You don't think she's a spy for Voldemort or something like that, do you?" Hermione was looking at her friend closely.

"No. I don't know—no, I don't think that's it. It's—well—it's her voice," said Harry. "There's something about her voice that's not like anyone else's, especially when she sings. I can't explain it." Harry shrugged his shoulders as his thoughts jumbled themselves up in his head.

"Her voice is very pleasant to listen to," said Ron. "I love listening to her talk. She has such a neat accent."

"I don't think Harry is talking about her accent, Ron," said Hermione. "I noticed it, too. It's like there's magic in her very speech, and I'm positive there's magic in her singing. She sings beautifully, and it's obvious that she's a trained singer."

"It's strange," Harry mused. "I felt as if I'd lost something important to me when she stopped singing. I just wanted her to continue."

"Don't tell us you're actually in love with her, Harry," said Ron, his eyes nearly popping out of his head.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," scoffed Hermione. "He only met her yesterday just like the rest of us."

"She's right, Ron," Harry confirmed. "That's not what I'm feeling. As I said, it's her voice. It does—something—to me."

"Be careful, Harry," Hermione warned. "You don't know this girl very well, and it already sounds like she's affecting you in certain ways."

"Don't worry, Hermione. I will be careful," Harry smiled reassuringly at his friends.

The friends finally made it to the Great Hall and found that dinner had already gotten underway. As Harry took his seat, he found himself seated next to Carrie again, and he couldn't help but hear snatches of the animated conversation she was having with Neville Longbottom.

"I'm telling you, Neville. My thumb is so black, I could kill Devil's Snare just by touching it." Carrie was laughing as she talked.

"Herbology really isn't that hard, Carrie. You just have to have a knack for it," he was explaining. Herbology was Neville's forte, and it was something he never became tired of talking about with anyone.

"Which is something I don't have," said Carrie as she grinned. "I think I'll just stick with the singing, thank you very much."

Neville smiled shyly back at her and then turned to his dinner. Carrie adjusted herself in her chair and smiled as she saw Harry and his friends. "Hi, you guys," she said cheerfully.

"Hi, Carrie," said Hermione. "How did you like your first day of classes?"

"Oh, it was great, except for Snape's class. You all were right about him. I can see I'm going to have to watch my step around him," Carrie said as she smiled sheepishly. "I'd better try to remember not to sing in there again."

"It was really pretty, Carrie," said Ron as he blushed scarlet.

"Thanks," she grinned at him.

"I wish you could have kept singing," said Harry. "It really was lovely."

"Thanks, Harry." Carrie smiled warmly at him, her blue eyes twinkling. "At least I know I'm appreciated by some folks."

Harry's heart gave a leap as Carrie smiled at him, and that voice of hers was like honey. _Stop it, Potter! Get your mind and yourself back down to earth. Pull yourself together and don't make a fool of yourself,_ Harry scolded himself. Carrie was just an ordinary witch from America, and her sole purpose was to get her education just like the rest of the students at Hogwarts. He didn't need to complicate his life by pining over some girl he barely knew.

Harry finished the remainder of his dinner in silence. He knew Hermione was eyeing him critically, but he didn't care. He excused himself from the table, thinking that tonight would be a perfect night for a moonlight broom ride. Harry always found this to be a relaxing way to calm down an overactive mind.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Call of the Siren**

**Chapter 4**

**Carrie**

"I'm telling you, Hermione, Snape has it in for me," said Carrie. The first week of her tenure at Hogwarts had passed quickly. Her classes were going quite well, but Snape lit into her every time she was in Potions class. "We got off on the wrong foot from day one, and it hasn't gotten any better between us." Carrie and Hermione were both seated at a long table in the library studying and talking quietly.

Hermione sighed. Carrie was certainly in an uproar, and she had a right to be. Ever since that first day, Carrie had made extra effort not to sing in class, and that was hard for her. All her life, Carrie always sang and hummed as she completed tasks and chores. It helped her concentrate and focus on what she was doing. However, this time, it wasn't the singing that had gotten Carrie in trouble. Snape had yelled at her because she was helping Harry with his potion, much to Harry's relief. He'd been having a difficult time of it, and all Carrie had done was point out the correct incantation that was needed in order to make the potion work. Unfortunately, Snape had caught her helping him and had chewed the both of them out.

"I know," Hermione commiserated. "Snape doesn't react too well to Gryffindors with talent. He constantly calls me an insufferable know-it-all all the time."

"Why does Dumbledore keep such a teacher in his employ?" Carrie asked. "It's obvious to me and everyone else, I'm sure, that he doesn't enjoy his job."

"For some reason, Dumbledore trusts Snape," explained Hermione.

Just then, Harry came into the library and sat down heavily in an empty chair at the table. He looked anything but happy.

"Hi, Harry," Carrie said tiredly. "I'm really sorry I got you in trouble with Snape today. I really need to keep my big mouth shut."

"We both got in trouble," grumbled Harry. "I appreciate the help you gave me. I'm just sorry Snape lit into you so much."

"Somehow, I think he looks for reasons to yell at us," Carrie sighed. "He really has no use for either of us."

At once, they were fixed with a stern glare from Madam Pince, so they hurriedly buried their noses in their books and studied. A few minutes later, Ron joined them, plopping down into the chair next to Harry.

After studying for a time, the four Gryffindors left the library and trudged back to the common room. It was getting late, and Harry had to be up early in the morning for Quidditch tryouts.

"Bloody hell, Harry. Saturday mornings are made for sleeping in," grumbled Ron. "Why couldn't you have made it for later in the day?"

"The earlier we do it, the sooner we'll get it over with." This was one task Harry wished he could avoid, but he knew it was something that needed to be done. "I want us to win the House Cup this year. You know what a hard time we had last year with Umbridge here."

At Carrie's curious look, Hermione explained about the chaos Umbridge had caused at Hogwarts the year before. She had managed to temporarily oust Dumbledore and nearly turned Hogwarts upside down with her insane Educational Decrees and unreasonable rules. Carrie had shaken her head in total astonishment as she listened to the tale and looked mortified when she'd heard about Harry's experience doing lines repeatedly in Detention.

"She sounds evil," said Carrie, her lips thinning into a line of disapproval. "How did you get rid of her?"

Harry explained about the Centaurs and told how Umbridge was then booted out by Dumbledore. As he talked, Carrie noticed that a shadow had crossed his face. Unbeknownst to her, the night Umbridge was taken away by the Centaurs was the night Harry had lost his godfather, Sirius Black.

Not wanting to pry, Carrie just nodded as she listened to Harry. Perhaps one day when they knew each other better, they could confide in each other. Carrie knew she liked Harry and wanted to be his friend, but she sensed that Harry was slow to open up to most people. It was no wonder. From what she'd heard as she overheard snatched of conversation, Harry had had a miserable life growing up with his aunt, uncle, and cousin. She couldn't believe how cruel the Dursleys seemed to be. They were Harry's family, for Merlin's sake. How could anyone be so nasty to their own nephew?

It was something that Carrie just couldn't fathom. Her family was very close, and she'd always been surrounded by love and tenderness growing up. She had a hard time understanding that other families didn't act in that manner, and Harry's family was one of those. Tears instantly sprang to her eyes as she thought of the emotional torment Harry must have gone through for years. Swallowing hard around the lump in her throat, she furiously blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill over. However, Carrie should have known that Hermione saw the storm clouds in Carrie's eyes.

"Carrie, are you alright?" she asked. "You looked so sad there for a minute."

"I'm OK," Carrie nodded. She took a steadying breath and smiled reassuringly. "My brain is just going overtime, that's all."

"You gonna try out for the Quidditch team?" asked Ron.

"Me? You've got to be kidding!" Carrie laughed.

"Haven't you ever played before?" Ron persisted.

"I was a fill-in for my team at home," said Carrie. "I was a Chaser, but only when they needed an alternate. I'm really not that good."

"You should try out, Carrie. At least give it a chance. You've nothing to lose," said Hermione.

"Well, I don't know. I'm really not that great at it," said Carrie as her gaze traveled to the floor.

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that," said Harry. "C'mon, Carrie, at least give it a try," coaxed Harry.

"You're not too scared are you, Carrie?" chimed in Ron. "I never would have thought you'd be a bloody chicken."

Hermione gasped. "Ronald!" She hoped that Carrie wasn't offended. Sometimes Ron could really stick his foot in his mouth. However, Carrie didn't seem the least bit put out; in fact, she was laughing heartily.

"OK, OK. I'll try out. Are you happy now, Weasley?" Carrie shot him a defeated look.

"That's the spirit," Hermione smiled. "Now, let's all get some sleep."

The next morning found Carrie awake a bit earlier than usual on a Saturday morning. As it turned out, she was rather excited about Quidditch trials. She had enjoyed playing on her team the few times she was needed, although she knew there were certainly better players. She was passionate about the game weather she was playing or served as a spectator. It was fast paced, exciting, and absolutely fascinating to her.

Grabbing a quick breakfast in the Great Hall, she smiled at Harry as she took her seat. The promise of playing Quidditch served in getting the juices to flow. She still needed her caffeine, but at least she wasn't crabby this morning.

"Are you ready for Quidditch trials, Carrie?" Harry asked as she sipped her first cup of coffee.

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be," she said a bit nervously. "I can't believe I let you guys talk me into this."

Harry grinned as he dug into his breakfast. Carrie looked absently around the Great Hall and caught Dumbledore's eye. There was something about him that instantly put her at ease, and she gave him a warm smile. Dumbledore winked at her and gave her a slight nod; that gesture sent waves of pleasure coursing through her.

Carrie carried her broomstick onto the Quidditch Pitch and sat down with the rest of the Gryffindors who were trying out. She glanced over at Harry, who was wearing his Quidditch robes and a whistle around his neck. Carrying a clipboard, he was marking names with his quill as he took in the excited crowd gathered there waiting for his instructions.

"When I call your name, you will approach me and mount your broom. I will watch you fly, and then, according to the position you have requested to play, we will have a few rounds to see how you do," Harry instructed.

Carrie felt her palms begin to sweat as she awaited her turn. Had she made a mistake by agreeing to try out? Surely she'd be laughed off the Quidditch Pitch. The butterflies rumbled in her stomach as she brooded about the fine mess she's gotten herself into. What in the name of Merlin was she thinking?

"Carrie Stafford!" She heard Harry's voice call out, and she jerked to attention. Well, it as now or never. She laughed a bit nervously and went over to where Harry was standing. "Mount your broom," he instructed.

Carrie did so, and she took off from the ground effortlessly. She followed Harry's hand signals, telling her where he wanted her to fly. She performed all the moves correctly and flawlessly per his instructions.

Harry then mounted his Firebolt and hung in the air next to Carrie. "OK now, Carrie, some of the others will fly up to us, and we'll observe you to see how you handle the Quaffle. Are you ready?"

Carrie nodded, and the others flew over to them at Harry's signal. Harry blew his whistle and the task began. At once, Carrie forgot her nervousness as she became caught up in the action of the game. She zoomed around the pitch catching and throwing the Quaffle to the chasers. Harry had recruited some volunteers to act as an opposing team in order to see how the perspective members handled a steal. Carrie spotted a boy flying her way in an attempt to steal the Quaffle from her. She dodged the steal and managed to pass it to a teammate who caught it. The Quaffle continued to be passed among Carrie and the other chasers with the volunteer fast on their heels. Carrie took a dive and grabbed for the Quaffle, closing her hand immediately around it as she felt it brush her fingers. Once again, she managed to dodge the volunteer stealer and scored a goal with ease.

Harry blew his whistle and signaled everyone to get back on the ground. "Good job, Carrie," Harry said as everyone dismounted and made their way back to their seats, panting.

"Alright, everyone, listen up now. The results will be posted tonight in the common room. You all did an outstanding job, but unfortunately, we can only accept a few of you to represent our team. Good luck to you all," said Harry as he walked off the Quidditch Pitch, signaling everyone that tryouts were over.

Carrie breathed a sigh of relief. She was glad that was over with. She'd check for the list later on and would be happy for those who made the team. She knew full well that there was no way she would be picked, but she'd had fun trying out anyway. It was beyond her why Harry had wanted her to try out in the first place.

The rest of Carrie's day was spent doing homework in the library. There were still some things she needed to catch up on, and Hermione had agreed to help her. They were due to meet in the library after lunch.

The library was quiet as usual as Carrie entered and looked around the room for Hermione. Hermione was sitting at a corner table and smiled as she waved Carrie over. "How did Quidditch tryouts go?" she asked the Siren as she sat down.

"It was fun," Carrie smiled, "but I'm sure I won't make the team."

"Think positively, Carrie. You might be pleasantly surprised. When is Harry putting up the results anyway?"

"Sometime tonight," Carrie informed her. "Harry says they'll be posted in the common room. Really, it's OK if I don't make it. I enjoy being a spectator."

The girls then got down to their homework and were surprised at how quickly the time flew. They made it to the Great Hall just in time for dinner; Carrie was starving!

Carrie attacked her dinner with gusto and listened politely to the conversation around her. Most everyone at the Gryffindor table was excited about the day's tryouts and was anxiously awaiting the results. There was much speculation on who would actually make the team. She perked up as her name was mentioned.

"I'll bet Carrie will make the team," a pretty fourth year Gryffindor said. "She was really good."

Carrie flushed in embarrassment and pleasure as she heard this; she was quite certain she wouldn't make the team, but she was pleased by the compliment nonetheless.

As the evening wore on, Carrie found herself in the Gryffindor common room looking at some sheet music that the music professor, Adrienne Croft, asked her to look over for her next lesson. It was a book of Mozart arias, and Carrie had marked a few that she was interested in working on. As she studied the music, she began singing softly as she followed the musical notation. She had planned on spending a lot of time the next day in one of the practice rooms familiarizing herself with the melodies of some of the pieces. Her singing was interrupted as a rustling sound reached her ears. She glanced up to see a small crowd making their way to the notice board. The results of Quidditch tryouts were up.

Knowing full well that she wouldn't be a part of the team, Carrie decided she's consult the notice after the crowd thinned down; however, she didn't have to wait long before she was shocked into silence.

"Carrie, you made the team!" Hermione bounced over to her in excitement. "That's wonderful!"

"What?" Carrie couldn't believe what she was hearing. "There's no way! It's not possible."

"Go read it for yourself."

Slowly, Carrie made her way over to look at the list. Sure enough, she saw her name written clearly on the parchment: CARRIETTA STAFFORD—CHASER

"I don't believe it. I just simply don't believe it." Carrie shook her head as bewildered shock rained down upon her. "What in the name of Merlin is Harry thinking?"

"Well," Hermione began, fixing Carrie with a no nonsense look. "I've known Harry for a long time, so I can safely say that he's thinking you'll make a great asset to the team."

"But, Hermione, there were other players out there who play better than I do. He should have picked one of them."

"Would you get over yourself, Carrie? If Harry didn't want you on the team, he wouldn't have picked you. Now quit questioning it and enjoy your victory. You should be ecstatic!" Hermione scolded gently.

"I am. Truly, I am. I'm just surprised, that's all," Carrie said as a wide grin began to spread across her face.

"That's better," smiled Hermione. "You're going to be great."

Carrie floated on a cloud of exhilaration and giddiness for the next couple of days. The first Quidditch game would be the next Saturday—Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw, and Carrie was indeed looking forward to it. Harry had introduced her to the other players, and they all seemed enthusiastic about having her be part of their team. They were a boisterous group, and Carrie was easily swept away in their excitement. Harry had his sights set on winning the House Cup this year, and having a top notch Quidditch team would be a definite advantage.

Quidditch practice was schedule for Monday evening, and Carrie made sure she was on the Quidditch Pitch early. She saw that Harry was already there, and they appeared to be the only early birds. She grinned as Harry caught her eye and waved her over.

"Hi, Harry," Carrie smiled cheerfully at him.

"How's it going, Carrie?" Harry's warm green eyes fixed her with a friendly gaze. "You're early."

"I know," she laughed. "I still can't believe you picked me to be on the team. You must be out of your mind."

"I picked you because you're good, Carrie. You sell yourself short."

Carrie felt a flush creep up her cheeks and she ducked her head, a bit embarrassed. "Thanks, Harry. I'll do my best."

"You'll do fine," Harry encouraged. "Just relax and have fun, alright? We're glad to have you aboard."

Practice got underway as the other Gryffindor team members appeared on the Quidditch Pitch. It was hard work, and they practiced each play repeatedly until it was engrained in everyone's heads. While working hard, Carrie was impressed that Harry kept an element of fun involved. She enjoyed bantering back and forth with her teammates; she could take it as well as dish it out.

Harry praised his team as practice ended, encouraging them and preparing them for the next game. Carrie laughed as Ron made a face at Harry and rolled his eyes. Ron, as Keeper, had come a long way since he had first played on the team. Harry had told her earlier about the song, "Weasley Is Our King" and how it had backfired on the Slytherins. She grinned as she flashed Ron a thumbs up sign.

It didn't take Carrie long to fall asleep after she crawled under the covers of her nice warm bed. She couldn't believe how well things were going at Hogwarts. Her parents had been right about sending her there to school. The last thing she thought of before the oblivion of sleep claimed her was Harry and his smile as he praised the Gryffindor Quidditch team. She imagined his smile being solely directed at her, his green eyes lighting up with amusement. In her dreams, she saw Harry's face, heard Harry's voice, and felt Harry's presence. She welcomed the dreams, not wanting the night or her sleep to end.


	6. Chapter 6

**The Call of the Siren**

**Chapter 5**

**Harry**

The month of September gave way to the cool, crispness of October. The leaves were drying out and turning autumn colors, decorating the ground in a rainbow of shades and hues. Everyone was gearing up for the approaching colder weather, replacing their summer clothing for that of warmer, appropriate attire. There was talk amongst the students about warming charms for their cloaks, and many girls were researching charms to help combat the effects of wind blown hair. Harry, however, ignored all of that for the most part, concentrating on his classes, Quidditch, and thinking about Carrie.

If anything, his attraction for her had grown stronger over the last month. She was on his mind constantly and at all hours of the day and night. Her face loomed before him before he drifted off to sleep at night, and she was the first thing he thought of as he awoke in the mornings. He found himself wanting to be with her and would make excuses just to talk to her. The sound of Carrie's sweet voice rang inside his head; he had memorized the sound and timbre of it so clearly that sometimes he felt as if he was actually listening to her when he conjured her voice inside his mind.

And then, there was her singing! She had willingly sung in the Gryffindor common room on numerous occasions at the request of her fellow housemates. Each time, Harry had sat listening in rapt silence as her beautiful, rich voice filled the common room and cascaded down upon him like a gentle waterfall. He could never get enough of listening to Carrie sing; each time, he never wanted her to stop.

Harry was falling for Carrie; he knew that without a doubt. It left him feeling giddy and happy but a bit scared and apprehensive, too. He remembered having a crush on Cho Chang during his fourth and fifth years at Hogwarts, but their relationship never worked out. During Harry's fourth year, Cho was seeing Cedric Diggory; Harry had been envious and resented Cedric for it. After Cedric's death, Harry felt such guilt about not being a better friend to him, but his crush on Cho never faltered. During his fifth year, Harry had asked her to accompany him to Hogsmeade, but they'd gotten into a row at a little tea shop. After that, nothing ever came of a permanent relationship between them; she was still mourning the loss of Cedric.

With Carrie, things were different. Harry noticed that she did turn the heads of the other boys, but she seemed oblivious to it. From what he could observe, there was nobody that Carrie was seeing, which he found himself to be very happy about. She was always friendly and cheerful when they talked; Harry found her to be so easy to talk to and a wonderful listener. Every time he saw her or when she smiled at him, he felt his heart beat faster and his insides grow warm. There was definitely some chemistry there.

During the first week of October, Dumbledore had announced that instead of the typical Halloween party, there would be a Halloween Ball replacing it. It would be a formal affair and would take place on Halloween night. The Headmaster had explained that Hogwarts used to have a ball in previous years, but that tradition had died, leaving just a regular party in its place. Dumbledore also announced that there would now be four balls a year—a Halloween Ball, a Yule Ball, a Valentine's Ball, and a Spring Bal in April. These occasions would be attended only by staff and students from fourth year on up.

By the end of that week, Harry was in a state of dread and misery. He'd wanted to ask Carrie to the ball, but his jumbled up nerves got in the way. He knew he'd want to crawl into a hole and die if she said no, and it would be so much worse if she laughed at him.

"For heaven's sake, Harry. Just ask her," Hermione said one day as she saw Harry brooding, a dark look crossing his face. "You'd better do it before someone else does."

"What if she laughs at me, Hermione?" Harry asked, his voice rising slightly.

"Bloody hell, I get laughed at all the time," Ron quipped.

"Thanks a lot, Ron," Harry muttered.

"You won't know until you ask her," Hermione advised, a hint of exasperation creeping into her voice. "I heard about a seventh year Ravenclaw boy wanting to ask her. You'd better get up the courage to ask her before she accepts someone else's offer."

Harry nodded reluctantly; he didn't want to repeat the same mistake he'd made with Cho a couple years before. He'd waited too long, and she'd agreed to be Cedric's date. "I suppose you're right, Hermione. It just makes me nervous."

"Don't worry," Hermione said, trying to reassure him. "Carrie's not the type of person to laugh in your face. You should know by now how nice she really is. She's about as sweet as they come." Hermione and Carrie had become quite good friends as the weeks at Hogwarts rolled along. Hermione knew there were things about Carrie that she didn't know; there were things that Carrie avoided talking about, things she skirted around, when Hermione or others asked about them. Hermione noticed that Carrie was always very guarded and chose her words very carefully when talking about her singing talents and how she learned she was musically gifted. Carrie also didn't talk about her past very much; in fact, she avoided the subject at all costs.

"I know. You're right, as always, Hermione." Harry's voice broke into Hermione's reverie, and she focused her attention on the situation at hand once again.

"What about you, Ron? Do you have a date?" asked Hermione.

"I—uh—no, not yet," Ron stammered as his cheeks and ears colored bright red.

"How about you, Hermione. Any handsome fellow sweep you off your feet yet?" Harry teased lightly.

Hermione glowered and shook her head. "I guess not many boys like a bookworm," she said quietly.

Ron gulped and blushed even darker, if that was even possible. "Uh, Hermione?" Ron began softly, feeling as if he wanted to crawl into a corner. "I was wondering if you—um—that is—I thought you and I could—er—go together. I mean, if you want to, that is."

Harry covered his mouth and coughed, attempting to suppress a grin as well as a burble of laughter. So, Ron was finally taking the bull by the horns and asking Hermione out, was he?

Unusual to Hermione's personality, she was momentarily stunned speechless. Her eyes grew round in shock and surprise. Then, she recovered herself and gave him a small, mysterious smile. "Alright, then. I'll go to the ball with you, Ron."

Ron grinned delightedly and heaved a sigh of relief. "Brilliant!"

"Now it's your turn, Harry. Get hold of yourself and ask Carrie to the ball. You'll be miserable until you do," said Hermione, a small smile playing about her lips.

"Speak of the devil," grinned Ron as he looked up to see the very subject of their conversation entering the common room.

Harry looked in Carrie's direction and took in her appearance, noticing how lovely she looked. She was wearing teal robes (upper classmen could choose their own colors to wear instead of the usual black that was required of underclassmen), a perfect color for autumn. In her hair, Carrie was wearing pretty little combs that held the sides of her long hair back; they matched the color of her robes perfectly. As she walked, her robes billowed and swished about her small frame, causing Harry's heart to speed up and his mouth to go dry. Carrie looked truly stunning!

"Now's your chance, Harry. Go ask her," hissed Hermione in his ear.

"Right." Harry got up from his chair, blushing scarlet. Approaching her, he tapped her on the shoulder. She whirled around and smiled when she realized who had touched her. "Uh, Carrie? Can we talk outside…in the corridor for a moment? I want to ask you something."

She looked a bit surprised at this. Usually Harry said what he needed to say right there in the common room. Perhaps she'd done something wrong at Quidditch practice and he didn't want to bawl her out in front of the others. "Well, OK. Did I do something wrong?" she asked, worry sounding in her voice.

"No, it's nothing like that," Harry was quick to assure her. "I just want to ask you something in private."

She nodded and followed him through the portrait hole. As the door closed behind them, Harry led her down the corridor a little. His stomach was tied in knots, and the butterflies were doing a great job of fluttering in there. For a moment, he didn't speak; Carrie waited patiently for him to begin.

"Carrie," Harry began hesitantly. "I was wondering if, maybe, you wanted to go to the ball with me. That is, if you don't already have a date. I'd be very honored if you accepted my offer." Harry felt perspiration wetting his palms, causing them to feel clammy. He discreetly wiped them on his robes, hoping Carrie hadn't noticed. Why did he always have to act like a total idiot in front of her?

"That would be lovely, Harry," she smiled up at him. "I'd love to go with you."

Harry couldn't suppress the grin that formed on his lips. It broadened into a genuine smile that reached his green eyes and caused them to sparkle. "Good. I mean, that's great. I'm glad." _Potter, you've graduated from idiot to jackass!_

"I was hoping you'd ask me," said Carrie softly. "I didn't want to go with anyone else."

"Really? You really wanted to go with me all along?" Harry was flattered.

"Uh huh," she nodded. "I like you, Harry, a lot." It was Carrie's turn to blush, and she ducked her head to try to hide it.

"Carrie," Harry whispered gently as he smiled down at her. Softly, he cupped her chin with his palm and lifted her face up so his eyes could meet hers. With his other hand, he touched her cheek, feeling the baby soft texture of her skin under his fingers. He stroked her cheek and gazed tenderly into her eyes as he took his other hand from her chin and wrapped his arm around her waist. Ever so slowly, he lowered his head and gently kissed Carrie's lips, feeling himself go weak in the knees. He ended the kiss after a moment and looked questioningly down at her. "Did you mind?" he asked.

Instantly, she shook her head. "No," she whispered.

Again, Harry lowered his head and kissed her, holding her closer to him this time. Carrie reached up and tenderly touched his hair, running her fingers lightly through it as she returned his kiss. Sensing her willingness, Harry deepened the kiss, and Carrie followed suit, her lips parting to accommodate him. As he kissed and held her, electric shocks zoomed down his spine. When the kiss ended, he wrapped his arms about her more tightly and just enjoyed the feel of her slight frame in his arms. He lowered his head to rest his cheek on top of her head, breathing in her scent; she smelled of exotic flowers. It was a beautiful smell that seemed to go well with her. He wondered what kind of perfume she wore.

Harry stroked Carrie's hair as she rested her head against his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat under her cheek. Her arms were wrapped tightly around him, and she closed her eyes as she sighed in pleasure.

They stayed like that for a timeless period, each one enjoying this new sensation. Harry's hands continued to stroke her hair, letting the silken softness of the strands gently glide through his fingers. He felt Carrie totally relaxing against him as he held her. He had never dreamed it could be like this. He wanted to just hold her, to just be with her, forever.

With great reluctance, Harry let her go, but he had one more thing to ask her. Now that things had surprisingly escalated between them a bit, he decided to voice his question, hoping and saying a silent prayer that it wouldn't scare her off. "Carrie, would you be my girlfriend—officially?"

Carrie's smile was unmistakable. The light in her eyes was shining just for Harry as she breathed, "Oh yes, Harry. I will be your girlfriend."

At those words, he kissed her again, and she melted into his arms. He wanted nothing more at this moment than to feel her next to him, to kiss her, to hold her tight.

Abruptly, the moment ended when Hermione's voice rang throughout the corridor. "Harry, is everyth--?" Her mouth dropped open in astonishment as she saw Harry and Carrie in each other's arms. "Uh, sorry Harry."

Carrie and Harry broke apart, both of them bowing their heads, a bit embarrassed. "What's up, Hermione?" Harry asked, trying to compose himself.

"Ron and I were just wondering how you made out." At these words, all three of them cracked up. The words were quite fitting for the situation Hermione found the two of them in.

"If you're talking about the ball, Carrie has graciously agreed to go with me," said Harry.

The next weekend was a Hogsmeade trip, which the students were looking forward to. With the ball coming up, most everyone needed to do some shopping, especially the girls. Harry had already asked Carrie to accompany him to Hogsmeade, which she readily agreed to.

Carrie and Harry held hands as everyone walked down to the little village. He knew Carrie was excited about going; she'd told him that the only thing she saw of Hogsmeade was the train station when she'd arrived there with her parents. Carrie looked especially lovely that Saturday morning. She was wearing flowing deep blue robes that swished as she walked. Her hair hung in flowing curls down to her waist, and her face was flushed from anticipation and excitement. Harry glanced down at her from time to time, noticing how her hair shimmered in the sunlight. She had the prettiest, softest hair he had ever seen.

Once they arrived at Hogsmeade, Carrie and Hermione left Harry and Ron and meandered down to shop for ball gowns at The Well Dressed Witch; the boys decided to pay a visit to Honeydukes.

The foursome met at The Three Broomsticks for lunch and butterbeers; everyone was laden with packages as they blew through the door. It was getting colder outside, and the friends decided to try to find a table next to the warm fireplace.

"I can't believe how much stuff I bought," grinned Carrie. "Hermione, next time I go dress shopping, remind me to bring a wheelbarrow."

Everyone laughed as they looked down at the mountain of packages Carrie had brought in with her. "Looks like you just about bought out the entire store," Harry said, chuckling softly.

"I hit the jackpot, that's for sure," Carrie replied a bit sheepishly. "Mom always said I'm a dangerous woman when I'm shopping."

"I'll have to agree with you there, Carrie," laughed Hermione. "You really know how to shop, and you're excellent at sniffing out a great bargain."

Carrie grinned and took a sip of her butterbeer. "Hey, did I tell you that Professor Croft asked me to sing at the ball?" Carrie asked, changing the subject.

"Brilliant!" Harry smiled proudly. "I can't wait to hear you."

"I thought you might be a little upset that I won't be with you the whole night," said Carrie. "It'll just be for a while. After all, the Wyrd Sisters are playing most of the music."

"It's alright," said Harry. "I don't mind, really. It will be just as enjoyable for me to hear you sing."

"Thanks, Harry," she said, smiling appreciatively.

Looking around, Harry noticed that The Three Broomsticks was becoming quite crowded with patrons and was glad that he and his friends had gotten there early. They listened to the lively chatter as they ate their lunch and shared laughter as they heard snatches of conversation.

"I tell you," they heard one man at a nearby table talking to his two male companions. "when I came 'ome the other night blind drunk, the ole lady hexed me—made me puke up slugs and me drinks, she did. What a waste o' perfectly good firewhiskey."

"I hope ye told 'er what she could do wi' 'er damn wand," fired back one of his friends.

"Yep, told 'er she could stick i' up 'er—"But the man didn't finish due to the raucous laughter of his friends.

Carrie and Hermione giggled uncontrollably while Harry and Ron guffawed outright. Carrie began to laugh even harder as she watched Harry and Ron double over, clutching their sides. As she laughed harder, she snorted, which was something she did when she cracked up completely; this sent Harry and Ron into a barrage of howls. Ron slapped the table as his laughter overcame him while Harry was nearly on the floor. Both Carrie and Hermione had tears of mirth pouring down their cheeks as they clutched their stomachs and tried to stay in their chairs. They were all laughing like loons!

Just as it started to let up a little, Rosemerta came over to their table and asked if everything was alright. The four Gryffindors looked at each other and then burst into helpless gales of laughing once again. Rosemerta just shook her head and clicked her tongue as if to say, 'Teenagers."

Finally able to get themselves under control for good this time, they began talking about nothing in particular. Harry was thinking to himself what a great day they were having and how much fun this Hogsmeade trip had been. He was there with his best friends and his girlfriend, who he was falling for more and more as each day passed. As he was lost in his reverie, he didn't' notice the door to The Three Broomsticks open and admit a man.

It wasn't until he heard a blood curdling scream from Carrie that he looked up. Harry noticed that Carrie had dropped her butterbeer and was white as the driven snow. She was sitting in her chair, trembling and staring, a look of absolute horror on her face.

The man who had entered the pub was none other than Remus Lupin.


	7. Chapter 7

**The Call of the Siren**

**Chapter 6**

**Carrie**

The trip to Hogsmeade was something that Carrie had been looking forward to all week. She certainly wanted to see more of the little Wizarding village, but more than that, she was eager to spend time away from school with Harry. She and Hermione had also made some plans to go shopping for their ball gowns together, and Carrie definitely wanted to pick out something that Harry would like.

She still couldn't believe Harry had asked her to be his girlfriend. She had fallen for Harry, hook, line, and sinker, and she'd hoped against hope that he would notice her in a more-than-friends way. Her heart had done double flip-flops when he'd kissed her and held her; her knees had gone so weak that she thought she'd end up on the floor at his feet. Carrie Stafford was indeed one very happy Gryffindor Siren.

The morning of the Hogsmeade trip had found Carrie in a flurry to look her best. She'd donned her pretty sky blue robes and did her hair in luxurious curls that reached her waist in a shimmering mass of golden blond color. As she glided down the stairs and was about to go to the Great Hall for breakfast, she noticed that Harry was at the bottom of the staircase waiting for her. He wished her good morning as he gently kissed her and took her hand, escorting her to the Gryffindor table.

The students chattered happily as they ate their breakfast, the promise of a wonderful day ahead of them. Carrie was caught up in the excitement as she made her final plans with her friends. She and Hermione would do their shopping first, and then they'd meet Harry and Ron at the Three Broomsticks for lunch and butterbeer.

The walk to Hogsmeade was a pleasant one. Holding Harry's hand, she felt warm and cared for as they chatted amiably. Harry had a great sense of humor, and she laughed as he recalled past events at Hogwarts.

When they arrived, Carrie turned her face up for his kiss as they parted company. Carrie and Hermione hurried off to The Well Dressed Witch in search of the things they'd need for the ball.

The girls were giggling as they stepped through the door of the shop. "Well, I think we can start out with the dresses first," said Carrie. "That'll be the hardest part. Then we can pick out everything else to match our gowns."

"Sounds like a plan," Hermione replied. Normally, the bookish girl didn't get excited about dressing up in finery, but she found herself being swept away by Carrie's enthusiasm. And beside, Hermione did have a date, so she wanted to look her best.

The girls sifted through the gowns on display, trying to find ones that might be of interest to them. Hermione, who'd never really taken great pains with her appearance, found herself a bit frustrated as she rejected gown after gown. Carrie, however, found some that she wanted to try on. Putting her stack aside, she went over to try to help Hermione.

"I just can't find anything I like," Hermione sighed in exasperation.

Carrie was thoughtful for a moment as she eyed the gowns. She was about to summon a sales lady, but then she turned and saw a gown that they'd missed. It was an off-the-shoulder soft cream color. It looked like it might fit Hermione, and she urged her friend to try it on. "C'mon, Hermione. Let's go try this stuff on. I'm dying to see how that gown looks on you."

The two girls scurried off to the dressing rooms, Carrie nearly buried under the stack of gowns she'd chosen to try on. "Are you really going to try all those on?" Hermione asked as her brown eyes grew wide.

Carrie laughed. "Yep, I am. I like to exercise my many options. And if there's anything here you want to try on, go ahead."

"You might have to have them altered, Carrie. They don't make many gowns for petite people like you," said Hermione.

"I know," Carrie sighed. "It never fails. I always have to have stuff altered. You're lucky you're a bit taller and can find things to fit you easily."

Hermione took her turn trying on the dress that Carrie suggested, and it was lovely. It was a soft cream color with a full skirt with layers of soft Wizarding fabric flowing to the floor. The bodice was tight fitting with intricate cream colored beadwork. It was an off-the-shoulder style that ended in long, elegant sleeves. It clung to Hermione's figure flatteringly.

"It looks gorgeous on you, Hermione!" Carrie exclaimed.

"Do you think so?" Hermione was a self-confident witch, especially when it came to books and schoolwork, but she faltered a bit when it came to dressing up.

"I do," Carrie nodded. "How about we keep it as a strong possibility for you, and then you can try on some other things, if something catches your eye?"

Hermione consented to Carrie's suggestion and helped her friend as she tried on some dresses. A big pile of rejects was hanging up once Carrie tried them on. There were many that were the wrong color or style, and there were even more that didn't flatter her petite figure at all. She was down to the last three, and she was starting to get worried.

"I hope I can find something after all this," Carrie said, her brow creasing in worry. She held up a slinky black number with sequins and a big slit up the right side. "Merlin's beard, Hermione! I cannot believe I chose to try this one on. What was I thinking?"

"You were probably thinking about how Harry's eyes would pop out of his skull if he saw you in that," Hermione said with a perfectly straight face and an air of seriousness in her voice.

As she thought about it, Carrie doubled over and howled with laughter. "Would I do a thing like that?" she asked innocently. However, the look wasn't very convincing, as Carrie was still laughing and her eyes were sparkling devilishly.

"Yes, you would," Hermione said with absolute certainty. Then, she too was doubled over in laughter. "Just for the hell of it, try it on, Carrie," said Hermione as she wiped her streaming eyes with her handkerchief.

"Are you serious? Girlfriend, you are naughty." But Carrie loved the idea although she knew she could never wear such a thing. Stepping into it, Hermione zipped her up, and Carrie nearly started laughing again when she saw her reflection in the mirror. It was indeed too long for her, as most gowns were since they were originally designed for taller witches. Carrie grinned as she bunched up the skirt and preened in front of the mirror. She struck a sexy pose and fixed her expression in a come-hither look. "Harry, darling. How do I look?" Carrie purred huskily as she batted her eyes flirtatiously.

The girls looked at each other and then burst into hysterical peels of laughter as they collapsed on the benches, holding their stomachs. It took them quite a while to get themselves back under control; every time they thought they'd be able to stop, they'd glance at each other and start roaring again. The laughter finally died down, and both girls wiped tears of mirth from their cheeks.

"Stafford, you are truly insane," said Hermione, grinning.

Carrie returned the grin and stepped out of the slinky dress. There were two dressed left for Carrie to try on. Hermione zipped up the back as Carrie looked in the mirror. The one she was wearing now was a strapless red gown with sequins sparkling on the tight bodice and full, flowing skirts. Aside from being too long, it molded to Carrie's tiny figure, accenting her slender waist and curvaceous chest. It looked lovely next to her skin and flattered her hair nicely.

The second gown was also a strapless style with a deep blue skirt and black bodice. There was old fashioned black beadwork and sequins on the bodice, and the long skirts flowed to the floor in a blue waterfall of silken softness. This gown, also, flattered the shade of Carrie's hair beautifully, and it brought out the blue in her eyes.

"I can't decide," moaned Carrie. They're both gorgeous."

"The blue one looks stunning on you, Carrie. It brings out your eyes beautifully," Hermione observed.

Carrie scratched her head as she pondered her decision. Finally, she snapped her fingers and grinned as it came to her. "I'll solve that dilemma. I'll just get both of them, and hen I can have one for the Yule Ball. That'll kill two birds with one stone, so to speak."

"Brilliant! You would've had to go shopping again otherwise," replied Hermione.

Hermione had settled on the cream colored gown, and Carrie smiled her approval of Hermione's choice. "It really does look great on you," she told her. Next, the friends bought matching jewelry hair accessories, shoes, hosiery, and undergarments to go with their gowns. Since she'd bought enough things for two balls, Carrie felt bogged down with all her packages, and that was only the accessories; they still had to have the gowns properly altered and fitted.

One seamstress took Hermione in hand while another appeared and assisted Carrie. The witch who was helping Carrie was a plump, middle aged witch with a pleasant smile, laugh lines around her lips, and twinkling brown eyes. Carrie gave her a sheepish look and asked if she had time to alter two gowns for her today.

"Of course, dear," said the seamstress in a Scottish burr. "My, aren't you a tiny thing. My name's Jenny."

"I'm Carrietta Stafford," Carrie introduced herself as she extended her hand to the seamstress. "You can call me Carrie."

"It's nice to meet ye, dear," said Jenny with a friendly smile. "Now, let's see what we got here." She instructed Carrie to go to the nearest fitting room to put on one of her gowns so Jenny could do her work.

Carrie hurried off to obey and came out wearing the red gown. Jenny smiled warmly as she took in Carrie's appearance. "Oh, that is indeed lovely, my dear. You have excellent taste."

"Thank you," she said, blushing a bit. "I'm sorry this will be so much work for you. These gowns just aren't designed for the shrimp in mind," Carrie laughed.

"Oh, 'tis no trouble at all, lassie. Yes, ye are certainly a tiny thing but lovely as a flower, ye are," replied Jenny as she retrieved her pins.

Again, Carrie thanked the kindly witch and stepped onto a stepstool at her request. She liked Jenny, and she thought her accent was beautiful. As Jenny pinned, Carrie began to sing a soft love song that reminded her of Harry. A dreamy expression crossed her face as she sang with deep emotion, executing each note and phrase flawlessly.

"Ye have a lovely voice, my dear," complimented Jenny with enthusiasm and emotion. Carrie saw that she wiped a tear from her cheek as she ducked her head to look for another pin.

"Thank you, Jenny," said Carrie as she beamed at the woman. "Sometimes I don't realize I'm singing until someone says something," she laughed at herself. "It's gotten me in trouble a time or two."

"I don't see how anyone would dislike it, love," said Jenny with conviction. "I could listen to ye from sunup till sundown."

Carrie beamed and thanked her politely. When Jenny was done pinning Carrie's dress, she surveyed her work in great detail. "Yes, it does look lovely, my dear. Now, I'll just wave my wand and this one will be ready." Jenny muttered an incantation as she wiggled her wand, altering the dress permanently. At another wave of Jenny's wand, the pins dislodged themselves and flew back into their holder.

Carrie went through the same process with her second gown as Jenny beamed her approval. "That shade of blue looks lovely with your eyes and hair, love. Your young man won't be able to keep his eyes off ye."

After Carrie's dresses had been altered, she thanked Jenny profusely for her help. "You're a wonder, Jenny," said Carrie as she smiled at her.

"Oh, no I'm not, lass. I'm just a normal witch who loves her job. Now, ye have a wonderful time at that ball of yours and dance the night away with your young man. Who are ye going with?" asked Jenny curiously.

"Harry Potter," replied Carrie, her eyes taking on a sparkle as a loving look crossed her features.

"Oh! Merlin's beard, love! You're going with The Boy Who Lived? I knew young Mr. Potter's parents," explained Jenny, a hint of sadness in her voice. "Such a nice couple and such a tragedy what happened to them."

Carrie nodded. "I know. They sounded like wonderful people. I just couldn't imagine losing my parents like that."

Jenny sighed sadly. "Yes, yes. And it's the wee one who suffers the most for it. Now, ye have a wonderful time, love, and come back anytime and pay me a visit. Ye can sing to me anytime, my dear."

"Thank you, Jenny. I'll visit you again soon, I promise." Carrie waved goodbye to her and went in search of Hermione. Exiting the shop, they made their way to The Three Broomsticks to meet up with Harry and Ron. It had been a hectic morning, but both girls were pleased with their selections. They'd accomplished what they'd set out to do.

Carrie was laden with packages as they entered the pub. Finding a table by the warm fireplace, she set her purchases down with a grunt of satisfaction. She grinned as she saw Harry's and Ron's amused expressions.

"I'm a woman! It's my prerogative to go crazy while shopping," she laughed.

The friends settled down to their lunches and butterbeers, laughing and chatting happily. They talked about everything from Quidditch to classes, and the ball came up more than once.

Carrie was enjoying herself immensely—until the bottom of her world dropped. She looked up as the door opened, letting in a blast of cold air that put an eerie chill into the room. Along with that blast, a man entered the bar, and Carrie's heart stopped. She let out a scream that would chill even Voldemort's blood, her butterbeer crashing loudly and spilling across the table.

There was only one person in the world who could paralyze Carrie with such an intense fear—Rudy Butts or "The Destroyer" as he dubbed himself. "It's him," she gasped as she began breathing in short, ragged breaths. Carrie trembled uncontrollably as nausea coursing through her.

"Bloody hell!" Ron gasped.

Hermione jabbed him in the ribs and shot him a look that told him to shut up at once. Hermione beckoned him to follow her, and they discreetly got up from the table and stood a distance away.

The pub was immediately immersed in silence as the scream of the frightened girl penetrated through the chatter and noise. Heads turned to gawk in her direction, but she was oblivious to it. In an instant, Harry and Albus Dumbledore were both at her side, attempting to soothe her.

Dumbledore pulled up a chair and sat in front of her; he began talking in a soft, comforting voice. "Carrie," he said soothingly but commandingly. "Look at me. It's Professor Dumbledore, child. Everything is going to be alright. Look at me."

"Professor, what's wrong with her?" Harry asked in a low voice.

"She's had a terrible fright, Harry," said Dumbledore. "I suspect it has something to do with Remus Lupin's entrance."

"Why would she be frightened of Remus?" asked Harry. "He'd never hurt anyone."

"I know, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "I am quite certain this is a case of mistaken identity. Perhaps Remus' appearance is similar to someone who's caused her terrible suffering."

Carrie knew those voices. It was Harry and Dumbledore talking, but she just couldn't get her brain to work. She was so frightened she literally couldn't think straight. Stars danced in front of her eyes, and she was sweating. Carrie felt as if she were going to faint.

"Carrie, can you hear me?" Harry was desperate to reach her. Taking her cold, clammy hand in his, he began to rub it between his own hands while talking softly. "Carrie?"

Dumbledore took her by the shoulders and shook her gently. "It's going to be alright, child." He spoke soothingly while trying to get through to her.

Gradually, Carrie registered what they were saying, and her eyes began to focus on their faces. "H-Harry? Professor?" she whispered.

Heaving a relieved sigh, Harry smiled encouragingly at her. "I'm here, Carrie. Professor Dumbledore and I are here with you. Are you alright?"

"I-I feel a bit lightheaded," she said.

"Here. Take deep breaths and drink this," Dumbledore clicked his fingers together and a glass of cold water appeared on the table in front of her. Obeying, she felt better after a few moments. The color returned to her cheeks as the shaking subsided.

"What happened?" asked Harry. "You just screamed and looked like you were going to pass out."

Carrie glanced over at the man who had caused such an uprising with his entrance and shuddered slightly. "It was him. He looks like—I thought he was someone who—" she shook her head unable to continue.

"There's no reason to be afraid of him, Carrie. He's a friend—a very good friend. His name is Remus Lupin, and he used to teach at Hogwarts three years ago," Harry assured her as he continued to hold her hand.

"Getting a better look at him, I know I mistook him for—um—someone very evil. The resemblance is uncanny," said Carrie as she took a deep breath. "Geez, I'm so embarrassed."

"It's alright, Carrie. It could have happened to anyone," said Harry as he smiled reassuringly at her.

"But I was so dramatic about it. I made quite a scene," groaned Carrie.

"Something terrible must have happened to you," said Harry softly. "There are some things you can't get over very quickly, sometimes not ever."

Carrie nodded as she felt tears spring to her eyes. "I'm sorry I caused such a ruckus. I'm normally not like that."

"Do not fret, Carrie. There was no harm done. All will be well," said Dumbledore as he patted her shoulder kindly. "Will you be alright now?"

"Yes. I think so," she said miserably. "I'm just embarrassed, and poor Mr. Lupin must think I'm a mental case. I wish to apologize to him."

"Very well, then. I will leave you in Harry's capable hands," said Dumbledore as he got up from his chair. Feeling a rush of protectiveness wash over him, Dumbledore had to mentally slap himself. For some time now, he wanted to reveal to her that he was her great uncle, but this was not the time or place. It hurt his heart to see Carrie so petrified with fear that she couldn't move or speak. _All in due time, old man,_ he chided himself.

"I think meeting him would be a good idea, and I'm sure that will convince you that he's not the one to be scared of," said Harry. "When we get back to the castle, we should have a talk, OK?"

"Are you upset with me, Harry?" squeaked Carrie.

Harry pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight. "Of course I'm not upset with you, Carrie. I am upset to see you so scared like that. I think it's time you told me about what happened to you. There's a reason behind that fright, and I want to be there for you. Let me help you through it. Please, Carrie."

She nodded and relaxed against him for a moment. She sighed in relief as she felt her heartbeat slow down to a more normal rhythm. "I'm afraid—I'm afraid that what I have to tell you might scare you off. What happened to me wasn't pretty."

"I already came to that conclusion judging from your reaction when you saw Remus. You won't scare me away, Carrie. I promise. I've been through some horrible ordeals myself."

"I'm scared, Harry. I'm really scared," she said woefully.

"I know," he said softly as he stroked her hair gently. "I'll be with you. I'm not going anywhere."

"You mean it?" Carrie asked from within the circle of his arms.

"I stand by my friends and those I care for, Carrie. You're someone I care for very deeply, and I want to help you. I promise you, I'll stand by you." He held her for a moment longer before releasing her. She looked a lot better although she still seemed a bit shaky. "Now, I'll go get Remus and you can see for yourself that he's a friend."

A moment later, Harry came back to the table with Remus in tow. Harry asked him to join them, and Remus, looking a bit uncertain, finally agreed.

"Remus, this is Carrietta Stafford, my girlfriend. Carrie, this is Remus Lupin."

Carrie smiled a bit shyly, feeling the color rush to her face again. She was silently berating herself for causing such a scene and being such an embarrassment, but then, her good manners kicked in and she extended her hand. "I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Lupin," she said quietly. "I want to apologize for my inappropriate reaction when you came in."

Trying to lighten the mood, Remus grinned. "Well, it's not every day I get a lady to scream when I enter an establishment," he laughed softly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Carrie. And I'm sorry if I frightened you." He looked questioningly at Harry, who gave him a slight nod as if to reassure him that things were going to be alright.

"It was just a case of mistaken identity is all," said Carrie. After getting a closer look at him and hearing his voice, she was convinced that Remus wasn't the horrible Death Eater who abducted her. Carrie knew she'd recognize The Destroyer's voice anywhere, and Remus' voice certainly wasn't the frightening, terrible one she heard in her nightmares.

Ron and Hermione, sensing that things were settling down, came back to the table and sat down. "Are you OK, Carrie?" Hermione asked in concern.

"Yeah," Carrie nodded. "I do keep life interesting, don't I?" She chuckled softly.

"You had us really worried. I'm glad you're feeling better now. Are you feeling up to having another butterbeer?" Hermione wanted to know.

Carrie grinned at that. "Definitely," she said. "Mr. Lupin, would you like to sit with us for a while?"

Remus accepted Carrie's offer, figuring that it would make her feel better about what had happened if he did. Rosemerta brought another round of butterbeers, and Carrie made sure to apologize for her outburst. Rosemerta shrugged it off as she set the butterbeers in front of them and then left to serve other customers.

As it turned out, Carrie liked Remus Lupin almost immediately. He was a very nice man who appeared to be quite intelligent and a bit mischievous. She was quick to notice that his robes were rather frayed and shabby looking and that the man looked a bit under the weather. She wondered if he'd been ill recently, but she didn't want to pry. It was apparent that he and Harry knew one another quite well. Carrie made a mental note to ask Harry about him later on.

Carrie was dreading telling Harry about her time in captivity. Despite Harry's vow of standing by her, it was still in the back of Carrie's mind that Harry wouldn't want to see her anymore. When she revealed the details about her abduction, she would have to reveal to him that she was a Siren. How he would take that revelation, she didn't know. She would find out later on that night once they returned to the castle, and she was not looking forward to it. More than likely, it would be a long night and not an easy one to endure.


End file.
